


nn Bft fflimd MWWiwniiiKi /iv Mltii tti 1 


























































Book._*R_£J5_& 

Copyright K”_Hcl 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 





\ 











o 


t 




\ 


t 
























THE PROSPECTORS 












I 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


BY 

W. A. ROGERS v 

a 

Illustrator of “Toby Tyler** 



•% ) 

> * > 

> . > 


HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 







DANNY’S PARTNER 

Copyright, 1923 
By Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the U. S. A. 

First Edition 

H-a. 


SEP 25 '23 


©Cl A 7 59103 0 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


The Prospectors. Frontispiece 

“Donna Andrea” and .“Pedro” Get 

Back the Stolen Horses . . . Facing p. 72 

Danny and “Lady Emeline's” Beauty 

Parlor. 138 

The Gospel of Gold. 196 


















DANNY’S PARTNER 



DANNY’S PARTNER 


CHAPTER I 



HERE lay a fine old mossy log in the 


A deep woods. It was hollow and Ne¬ 
buchadnezzar barked and barked at a big hole 
in the end of it. 

This was Nebuchadnezzar's chief joy of life. 
He hadn't many, for he was the poor-farm dog. 
A little boy about nine years of age sat on the 
log. He hadn't many joys, either, for the only 
home he had was the poorhouse and no other 
little boys lived there; only old men, all dressed 
alike in faded blue jeans; and a few old women 
in alpaca gowns. 

The little boy might have been christened 
Julius Caesar, for all anybody knew, but he 
went by the name of Daniel on the town books. 
A big deep voice calling, “Danny! Hey, 
Danny!" stopped the dog from barking and set 
his tail to wagging, as a great, sturdy old man 
came hobbling through the woods on one 
sound leg and a very rude wooden one. 

“Have you come back home to stay, Mr. 
Barney?" 

At the word “home" a curious look came 
over Mr. Barney’s face, but he replied very 


2 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


cheerfully, “Yes, my leg got bad again and I 
couldn’t work any longer, and the town won’t 
get me a decent wooden leg, so I’ve come back 
to my little Danny and Nebuchadnezzar.” 

Just for a minute as he sat down on the old 
mossy log, a single tear rolled down Barney’s 
cheek. Danny saw it, but he didn’t understand 
—all he knew was that his only real friend 
outside of the poor-farm dog had come back to 
stay. 

Had anybody taken the trouble to ask Bar¬ 
ney if he were really an old man that day (he 
was just forty-five years of age), he would have 
replied that he was old and feeble. 

A wooden leg badly fitted and an inch too 
short made a helpless cripple and pauper out of 
a man whose heart was stout and independent. 
Not a day would Barney stay on the poor farm 
while he was able to work, but pain too great 
to be borne had driven him back at last. 

Nebuchadnezzar jumped on the log and 
rubbed his cold nose up against old Barney’s 
cheek while Danny was feeling in the pocket 
of his jacket of many patches for something 
very precious which he wanted to show his old 
friend. At last he got it out. It bore some 
resemblance to a top, only it was a good deal 
larger than tops usually are. It was, in fact, 
the finial of an ancient bedpost—one that lay 
in a pile of lumber back of the barn. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


3 


Danny had sawed it off, driven a nail into the 
point of it, found a bit of string and an old coat 
button, and he held it up very proudly now for 
Barney to see. 

“I got a top, Mr. Barney; lookee at it. ’T’s a 
really top, it 'll spin." 

“Where in the world did you get the money 
to buy it, Danny?" Old Barney grinned behind 
his hand. 

“I didn’t buy it, I made it," and Danny 
smiled to think that Barney didn’t know it 
wasn’t a store top. 

“Well, well, boy, you ’ll be making boats and 
steam engines next thing we know! How’s the 
multiplication table coming on? Can you do 
the nines yet?" 

“I can do the elevens an’ part of the twelves, 
Mr. Barney. Ol’ Miss Partin hears me, only 
she can’t hear ’zackly, an’ sometimes I make 
mistakes. Now you’re back home, I can learn 
faster. Hey! there goes the bell! Come on, 
Mr. Barney. Come on, Nebuchadnezzar. Din¬ 
ner! dinner!" and the little boy danced ahead 
as though he were going to a feast, while Mr. 
Barney pegged slowly after, more like a man 
going to a dreary pauper’s meal of a thin and 
greasy stew and a bowl of lukewarm coffee. 

Nebuchadnezzar’s hopes were not very high, 
either, but he ran with Danny and barked and 
wagged his stump of a tail because his little 


4 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


master was happy. Once out of the wood, they 
crossed a ragged field where a few vegetables 
were struggling with the weeds; and looming 
up before them stood a gloomy brick building 
with a few small windows, the lower ones 
barred. 

A little old man with a scraggy beard and 
very much twisted about with rheumatism 
made an effort to rise from a wooden bench 
which rested against the rear wall of the house. 
Barney helped him on his feet, but the little old 
man did not seem very grateful; for all he said 
was: “‘Well, Mr. Barney, so ye got tired of 
being a gentleman, eh? Goin’ t’ be a pauper 
ag'in jes’ like us wot ain’t got no ambition!” 
and three dismal croaks came out of his 
old cracked throat which were intended for 
laughter. 

Mr. Barney turned away just as the poor- 
master, who looked like a well-to-do farmer, 
stepped around the corner of the house. 

“You back, Barney? Leg give out again? 
Too bad, too bad. By the way, I’ve got a letter 
for you; it’s been here a week or more. Didn’t 
know where you were, so held it. Come in the 
office after dinner and I’ll give it to you.” 

So after dinner Barney stumped into the 
office for his letter. It was in a long envelope 
and on the corner were printed the words, 


DANNY’S PARTNER 5 

“Brant & Brant, Attys. at Law,” with their 
address. 

“Guess it's about my claim against the U. S. 
’count of my leg,” and slowly, for he had little 
hope of any action in the matter, Barney tore 
off the end of the envelope. 

Then he unfolded the letter. It was brief, 
but the color, as Barney read it, slowly mounted 
to his bronzed cheeks; and then, as he started 
to speak, suddenly left his face. He had to hold 
fast to the desk as he handed the letter to the 
poormaster. 

With eyes opening wider and traveling back 
and forth from the paper to Barney’s bewil¬ 
dered face, the poormaster read: 

“Brant & Brant, Attys. at Law, 

“Offices, etc., etc. 

“Mr. Abel Barney, 

“Poor Farm, 

“Bankville, Ohio. 

“Sir : 

“We beg to inform you that we are advised by the 
executors of the estate of the late Jane Elizabeth Barney 
of Alleghany, Penna., that you are named in her will as 
the sole heir to her estate, consisting of $ 10,000 in United 
States bonds and the deed to a property, value unknown, 
formerly owned by her brother, Timothy Barney, in the 
Territory of Colorado. If you will call on or communicate 
with us with proper identification this property will be 
turned over to you at once. 

“Respectfully, 

“Brant & Brant.” 


6 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


When Mr. Durbin had read the last line of 
the letter he rose from his seat. 

“Barney,” he said, as he grasped the trem¬ 
bling hand of that bewildered man, “this is the 
greatest thing ever happened here since I have 
been poormaster. And there’s never been a 
man on this poor farm that deserved good for¬ 
tune more than you have. I’ve watched you 
trying to keep at work outside, and now, as 
we’ll probably never meet again after you leave 
here, I want to say I tried my best to get the 
overseers to get you a proper wooden leg, so 
you could keep out of this place, but never 
could get them to act.” 

“You did just that, Mr. Durbin. I overheard 
you trying to persuade them to do the right 
thing by me, and I’ll never forget it. Now, if 
you will go over to town and identify me at the 
lawyers’ I can get things started.” 

When Mr. Brant, senior, saw the kind of 
man who was to receive the legacy in his 
charge, he was surprised. He had expected to 
see a decrepit old pauper, perhaps blind and 
incapable of caring for, or enjoying, his belated 
good fortune. But here was a fine, sturdy 
specimen of manhood, handicapped, to be sure, 
by the loss of a leg, but capable of making good 
use of the estate for many years to come. Mr. 
Brant was too old a lawyer to betray his 
thoughts, but proceeded at once to the business 


DANNY’S PARTNER 7 

of putting the new heir in possession of the 
estate of the late Jane Elizabeth Barney. 

It was arranged that the actual transfer was 
to be made through the local bank one week 
from that day. Meantime, should Mr. Barney 
wish a temporary loan of one hundred dollars 
so that he could leave the poor farm at once, 
Mr. Brant would accommodate him. 

But Barney’s mind was fixed on a certain 
little boy whom he had left spinning his big 
top back of the poorhouse kitchen. 

This would be his last week ever to see his 
little friend. No, he did not care to borrow. 
He would like to have his good fortune come 
clear, and in a big lump all at once. On the 
way back from Brant & Brant’s office, Mr. 
Durbin and Barney agreed it would be better 
not to tell anyone at the poor farm of the 
inheritance. Poverty had soured most of the 
inmates and, while “misery loves company,” it 
has no great use for the company of those who 
have riches. 

But a rumor, that strange carrier of news 
which comes from no one knows where, got 
about that Barney was going to have a new 
artificial leg with silver bands around it, and 
old Nidol gave three croaks when he heard it 
and twisted his way over to where Barney sat, 
one morning, sunning himself on a bench by 
the wall. 


8 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“I hear ye’ve ordered a silver leg, Barney, 
with a shoe on the end of it. Oh, the pride 
of these paupers! Next thing they’ll be order¬ 
ing gold teeth.” 

Old Barney only smiled, and then he said: 
“If you had your way, Nidol, you’d have a set 
of steel claws instead of fingers. Then you 
could hook them into any of your friends. It 
would save your sour tongue,” and Barney 
whistled to Nebuchadnezzar and hobbled away 
to the woods. The birds were singing out 
there. They didn’t know it was the poor-farm 
woods. Spring had come and they were trying 
out their voices. 

There on the old mossy log, Barney found 
Danny lying outstretched on his little stom¬ 
ach. The boy had a very shabby, dog-eared 
book open before him. It had many leaves 
missing, but the “twelves” were all there and 
Danny was so busy with “twelve times eleven,” 
repeating it over and over, that he did not 
hear his old friend until the iron peg on the 
end of his wooden leg struck a stone in the 
pathway. 

Then Nebuchadnezzar, who had no respect 
for learning, began to wag his tail joyfully at 
sight of his young master and, taking his 
station at the hole in the end of the log, barked 
and barked, as has been the duty of all good 
dogs since the world began. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


9 


“Danny,” asked Mr. Barney, “how many can 
you count?” 

“Oh, I can count most a thousand without 
missing.” 

“Do you think you could ever count ten 
thousand?” 

“That’s an awful lot, Mr. Barney!” 

“Seems to me like an awful lot, too, Danny! 
Do you know all the states and territories in 
the Union? Where’s Colorado?” 

“Let’s see, Mr. Barney. Guess I know. It’s 
bounded on the north by Wyoming an’ on the 
east by Kansas and Nebraska, and—I just for¬ 
get what is on the south, but that’s near enough 
to tell where Colorado is.” 

“Yes, Danny, that is pretty good. What’s 
it noted for?” 

“In the east for cattle and sheep, in the west 
for gold and silver.” 

“Right! Danny, gold and silver—and scen¬ 
ery. They say the mountains out there are 
two miles high and some of them are bright 
red, some orange, and some pure white, and 
the snow lies on their tops all summer.” 

Old Barney’s eyes were shut, for he was 
seeing strange things far away from the poor 
farm, but when he opened them there was a 
little curly-headed boy dressed in an old faded 
suit of blue jeans, his trousers patched and far 
too short, and his shoes big and rough; but in 
spite of all he had a merry little face, and if his, 


IO 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


lot was an unfortunate one he didn’t know it. 
All the old people who paid any attention to 
him at all were kind to him, except Nidol, who 
gave him a sly cuff now and then when his 
rheumatism made him more cross and crabbed 
than usual. Barney was the one person who 
really took an interest in little Danny; and, 
finding him quick to learn, taught him as much 
as other boys of his age generally knew. 

And now Barney was going away and would 
never see the little chap again—where he was 
going he didn’t know, only away, far away 
from the poorhouse. 

The week passed quickly and the day came 
for Barney to meet the lawyers and take his 
departure. His heart was divided—joy at the 
prospect of independence and distress at part¬ 
ing from Danny. Not a word had he said to 
the little boy about his new fortune. Every 
time he tried to tell him, something seemed 
to choke back the story. So when the morning 
came and he was ready to leave the poor farm, 
Danny and Nebuchadnezzar danced about him 
and Danny asked if he might go to town with 
him. 

Glad enough to put off the parting, Barney 
went into the office, bade good-by to the poor- 
master, and with an old carpet-bag in his hand 
motioned Danny that he was ready to start. 

“What ye doin’ with yer bag, Mr. Barney?” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


u 


asked Danny, as he took Barney’s other hand. 

“Oh, just going to send some clothes away, 
Danny.” 

“What y’ goin’ to wear if y’ send yer clothes 
away?” 

To Danny one suit of clothes meant all any¬ 
one was supposed to have. Mr. Barney began 
to whistle and Danny’s question remained un¬ 
answered. Nebuchadnezzar ran into all the 
fence corners after imaginary rabbits and 
chased, at a respectful distance, all the real 
cats which were met on the road. 

Meanwhile there seemed to hover over the 
roadway, half a mile or more back of them, a 
great cloud of dust. It was late in April and 
warm and dry for the season. By and by out 
of the dust appeared a couple of horsemen who 
passed them at a swift canter. 

“How far’s the town?’ one of them called. 

“ ’Bout a mile,” answered Mr. Barney. 
“Guess they’re ‘movers’; must be wagons back 
there.” 

In due time the man, the boy, and the dog 
arrived in front of the lawyers’ office. “You 
wait here with my bag, Danny, while I go in 
and see the men in the office, and then we will 
go and buy you a baseball bat and a ball.” 

Danny waited what seemed a very long time. 
As he stood there with the bag, the two horse¬ 
men galloped by and one of them stopped at 


12 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


the corner and seemed to be making signals, 
waving his hat and pointing down the street 
past where Danny stood. By and by a wagon 
came in sight. It was a huge, queer-looking 
craft, very high in front and back, painted blue, 
much the color of Danny's blue jeans. Over it 
was a white canvas cover; a bucket of tar or 
grease hung from the back axle. It was drawn 
by four good-looking horses, a man in the 
saddle of one of the wheel horses driving. Out 
of a round hole in the front of the canvas cover 
peeped a young woman and a baby. Under 
the wagon a big yellow dog looked out and, 
seeing Nebuchadnezzar, growled savagely. No 
sooner had the great wagon turned the corner 
than another appeared directly behind it, and 
one after another, sometimes close together 
and at other times some distance apart, wagon 
after wagon passed on through the town to 
the westward. 

It was a movers' caravan, one of the last to 
go west from the Middle and Eastern states. 


s. 


CHAPTER II 

T HE Civil War, in which Barney had 
fought for four years, had been over for 
nearly two years and the task of building up 
the great West was now on. Little as Danny 
knew of the real intent of these people, he was 
thrilled by the sight of all these great wagons 
and hundreds of horses rumbling and clatter¬ 
ing on the stony road. While he was still look¬ 
ing bewilderedly at the great caravan passing 
by, Mr. Barney and the lawyers came to the 
office door. 

“This is the biggest emigrant train that has 
ever passed through the town in my time,” 
said Mr. Brant, senior. “I understand it took 
three hours to pass through Columbus yester¬ 
day. Well, Mr. Barney, we wish you well. 
You have your check book and your certified 
checks, and letter of introduction to the bank 
and all the papers. I should advise depositing 
the papers with the bank as well as the money. 
It looks as if your ill fortunes had left you for 
good.” 

Barney thanked the old lawyer for his good 
wishes. The door closed. There, his eyes rapt 
in deep attention to the never-ending line of 

13 


14 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


passing wagons, stood the little lonely boy in 
faded blue jeans, his only friend the poorhouse 
dog: and he, Barney, a big, strong man, rich 
beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, about 
to leave that little fellow to the tender mercies 
of the overseers of the poor. “Never, never, 
never!” He couldn’t do it. Just at that moment 
a wagon pulled out from the line and into the 
shade of a tall maple tree. 

Mr. Barney was loading the pockets of his 
old blue-jeans coat with the various long en¬ 
velopes in which the lawyers had placed the 
deeds, certified checks, and other legal docu¬ 
ments which went to make up his fortune. 

The owner of the wagon approached and in¬ 
quired if there was a sales stable or livery 
stable in the town. 

Barney asked him if he wanted to buy a 
horse. 

“No, I don’t want to buy; I want to sell— 
the whole outfit—horses, wagon, everything. 
I’m going to go back East. None of this gypsy 
life for me. My wife hates it. She’s got the 
chills and we’re going to take our loss and go 
back home by rail.” 

“You want to sell out?” asked Barney, 
slowly. “You really want to quit and go back? 
Where were you making for? . . . What, all 
the way to Colorado? Colorado! I’ve got 
some property out there.” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i5 


A laugh, not a pleasant laugh, interrupted 
him. “You got property out there, hey? Why, 
man, you can’t guy me! I know the rig of a 
poorhouse pauper when I see it. You and the 
youngster—blue jeans—property in Colorado. 
’Melia, come out an’ see the millionaire from 
Colorado!” 

“Now just before you go any further, friend, 
what ’ll you take for your outfit—four horses 
in harness, one led horse, wagon, blankets, etc. 
—what ’ll you take?” 

“I’ll take five hundred dollars. Now let’s 
see you produce the cash.” 

“I’ll give you four hundred,” said Barney, 
looking the man in the eye. 

“No, sir; five hundred is my figure, no less.” 

“All right. Call it five,” replied Barney. 
“The bank is down here two blocks. Come 
on.” 

“Am I dreaming?” asked the man, “or do 
they have bank accounts in the poorhouses 
these days? Well, let’s have a show-down at 
the bank.” 

Cautioning Danny to stay where he was 
with the old carpet-bag, Mr. Barney and the 
man who wanted to sell out walked down to 
the bank. Barney was expected there. He 
was known by sight to the cashier, who, as 
well as many other people in the town, had 


16 DANNY’S PARTNER 

noted Barney’s efforts to support himself in 
times past. 

After he had made his arrangements to de¬ 
posit his papers, valuable documents, and 
checks with the bank, he made out a check 
for $500, payable to John Madison Pardee, the 
owner of the wagon and horses, in considera¬ 
tion of a bill of sale for five horses, “a wagon 
and appurtenances/’ to be delivered immedi¬ 
ately. The transfer on paper being completed, 
Mr. Pardee and “ ’Melia” packed up their few 
personal belongings and made their way to the 
railway station. Little Danny looked open 
eyed at all these strange proceedings. 

When he had watched Mr. Barney stump 
around the wagon and its four harnessed horses 
and one led horse half a dozen times, he ven¬ 
tured to ask when they were going to get his 
baseball bat and ball and go home to dinner. 
With that Mr. Barney stopped in front of 
Danny, picked him up in his arms, and hugged 
him tight. 

“Danny, we’re going to get the baseball and 
bat, but we aren’t ever going back ‘home’ to 
the poorhouse. We’re going to Colorado!” 
Setting the boy carefully on the big seat across 
the front of the wagon, he pulled himself up 
after, unwound the reins from the whip-stock, 
and started his team westward. By this time 
the other wagons were several miles ahead of 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i7 


them, and one of the horsemen who seemed 
to oversee the caravan came riding back and 
was greatly astonished to see a new man driv¬ 
ing the Pardee wagon. 

Mr. Barney soon satisfied him by showing 
the bill of sale and other identification papers 
from the bank. As they traveled along, Dan¬ 
ny, who had crept back into the canvas covered 
wagon body, appeared at the opening in front 
with his face well plastered with bread and 
jam. He had, with true boy instinct, found 
the shelves where “ 'Melia" kept her store of 
provisions and he handed out a generous sup¬ 
ply from time to time to Barney on the driver's 
seat. 

“ 'Minds me," said Barney, “of war times, 
Danny, when w’e always drove mules, only 
we didn't have bread and jam. Anybody can 
drive horses; but mules—you've got to get 
acquainted with them, so’s they know you. 
They're wiser than horses. You can't impose 
on a mule. Take a look at that led horse, 
Danny. He looks like a poor lot. Maybe he's 
getting tired." Danny climbed over the bed¬ 
ding in the back of the wagon and looked out 
through the little opening made by a draw¬ 
string which almost closed the canvas cover 
at the back of the wagon. The poor led horse 
seemed in a bad way, only the stout halter was 
keeping him from falling. Barney thought 


i8 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


they had better not try to catch up with the 
rest of the caravan that night, but go into 
camp when they came to the next brook or 
river. 

Half a mile farther along they came to a 
place where a beautiful clear stream tumbled 
out over a gravelly bed. Back from the road 
a little patch of meadow surrounded by low 
limestone cliffs made an ideal camping ground. 
Barney drove in here and backed up his wagon 
to within twenty feet of the cliff. Then he 
unharnessed his horses and they took a roll 
in the grass before he watered them. 

While Barney was looking after the poor 
led horse, Danny gathered dry sticks and as 
large logs as he could carry to make a camp 
fire. 

"Put your fire about six feet from the cliff, 
Danny,” was Barney’s advice. "Then you can 
sit sheltered from the wind and with a place 
to lean your back against. Get out the tin 
plates and the coffee pot and the frying pan 
and the bacon and bread and butter. That 
Mr. Pardee was a good provider. I give him 
credit for that. There’s a good piece of dried 
beef in the wagon, and potatoes and a lot of 
jars of apple butter—and sugar and tea and 
smoked hams. What did we have last night 
for supper, Danny? Was it stew or beans? 
Well, some day I’ll make a stew that won’t be 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i9 


three quarters greasy water, and when we’re 
in camp for more than a night I’ll cook you 
some beans in a hole in the ground. Then 
vou’ll know what beans are.” 

When Danny got his fire started and his 
coffee pot filled with water he went back to 
the stream with a piece of soap and scrubbed 
his hands and face until he felt clean and cool. 
It was so hard to keep clean at the poorhouse, 
and now Danny could have all the soap he 
wanted and a clear brook to wash in. 

At the next town he and Mr. Barney were 
going to get new clothes out of a store, and 
a baseball bat and ball. One thing troubled 
Danny a great deal. He had really run away. 
The poormaster would surely come after him, 
and then Mr. Barney would be arrested. But 
Mr. Barney was calling him. The bacon was 
sizzling, some brown toast was ready on his 
tin plate, and there was coffee—“really coffee” 
—made out of new grounds never used before. 
It was not until Mr. Barney had lit his pipe 
and, rolled in a big blanket, was leaning back 
against the cliff, enjoying the fire, that Danny 
ventured to ask if Mr. Barney didn’t think the 
poormaster and the overseers of the poor would 
be coming after him before morning. Mr. 
Barney laughed so loudly at this that Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar woke up and began to bark, and 
then, seeing Danny so troubled, began to whine 


20 DANNY’S PARTNER 

and rub his nose against the cheek of his little 
master. 

“Why, Danny, they’ll know by this time 
about me buying the outfit, and they will sense 
that I took you and Nebuchadnezzar along 
with me. The overseers will say this is a dis¬ 
pensation of Providence to reduce expenses 
of the poorfarm, but maybe they’ll come after 
Nebuchadnezzar. He is a valuable dog, and 
I guess we had better send him back.” 

“Oh, no!” cried Danny, hugging the little 
dog closely. “No, no, don’t let them take Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar!” And the poor dog began to 
whine again as though he knew they were 
talking about sending him back to the poor- 
house. 

“Well, well, Danny, I suppose it’s very 
wicked of us to carry off such a valuable dog 
as Nebuchadnezzar, but if you are willing to 
take the risk we’ll keep him with us to protect 
us at night.” 

Never had Danny, since he could remember, 
slept in so luxurious a bed as he had that night. 
Mr. and Mrs. Pardee had believed in comfort. 
Mr. Pardee had built two berths with mat¬ 
tresses in the sides of the wagon and Danny 
had two blankets to roll up in all to himself. 

Barney had a comfortable bed, too, but he 
had to get up and look after his horses now 
and then, and the sick horse had to be taken 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


21 


care of. But to an old soldier this was all in 
the day’s work, and to feel that he had rescued 
little Danny from a pauper’s life made his heart 
swell with a deep joy. Long before the sun 
was up Barney had fed his horses—a handful 
of oats for each and plenty of good yellow 
corn. Danny was busy, too, carrying wood and 
roasting potatoes in the hot ashes. 

“They’ll be good cold for a bite at noontime. 
We must hurry up, Danny, and catch up with 
the others.” 

It wasn’t long before one of the horsemen 
rode up. 

“You’d better sell that sick horse of yours, 
Mr. Barney, for what you can get. He’ll keep 
you lagging and we must all keep together. 
The people around here are all good people, 
but we’ll strike some pretty rough folks out on 
the frontier.” 

“I been thinking just that way myself, Cap¬ 
tain,” Barney replied, “and the first chance I 
get the sick horse ’ll change owners. He’s a 
good animal and all he needs is rest and quiet. 
This noise and confusion of the caravan makes 
him nervous.” Barney’s early start brought 
him up with the others before noontime. 

A motherly-looking woman who wore a big 
sunbonnet drove the next wagon ahead all by 
herself. She could handle a team of horses 
as well as any man in the caravan, but having 


22 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


her cooking to do, as well as the care of her 
team, kept her at the end of the line most of 
the time. When they stopped to rest the horses 
at noon, Mr. Barney and Danny sat down by 
the side of a little stream and ate their cold 
potatoes. 

“They taste pretty good, don’t they, Mr. 
Barney?” 

“They’re fine, Danny.” 

Of course they were burnt to a crisp on one 
side and a little bit raw on the other, but at any 
rate they weren’t boiled and allowed to soak 
in lukewarm water, as usually happened at the 
poorfarm. 

Danny had finished two, and was thinking 
about attacking another, when the woman in 
the big sunbonnet, who had been watching 
him, came over from her wagon with a round 
sugar cookie in her hand. Her face was 
bronzed with the wind and sun and she wore 
a pair of man’s boots and carried a big black- 
snake whip under her arm, but she smiled with 
her eyes at the little boy in his blue jeans, and 
when he saw the cookie he smiled back. 

“You’re a little mite of a boy to be away 
from your mother,” she said as she handed 
him the cookie. 

“I haven’t never had any mother or father 
or anybody,” Danny replied. “Only Mr. Bar- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


23 


nev and Nebuchadnezzar. They’re all the 
folks I got. My name is Danny.” 

“So. Mr. Barney’s not your father, Danny? 
And who’s Mr. Nebuchadnezzar?” 

“No, Mr. Barney’s just took me from the 
poorfarm at Bankville and if the overseers of 
the poor don’t come after me and make him 
give me up I’m goin’ to be his little boy. Mr. 
Nebuchadnezzar’s my dog, at least he belongs 
to the poorhouse; but he wanted to come with 
us. Mr. Barney says it’s wicked to keep him 
because he is a very valuable dog; but he won’t 
go back ’cause he likes me too much.” 

Danny’s mouth was too full to give out much 
more information and the eyes above the hard 
bronzed cheeks smiled, and glistened a little, 
too, in the shadow of the sunbonnet, for this 
big strong woman had once had a little boy of 
her own just about as big as Danny. But one 
day he went down to the creek with the other 
boys to swim. A smaller boy fell in and her 
boy tried to get him out—and then—after that 
she had no little boy. 

“You must call me Mrs. Elmore, Danny—no, 
call me Aunt Mary; that will be easier.” 


CHAPTER III 


A LL afternoon they traveled westward, and 
the captain on horseback notified every¬ 
one that they would camp on the banks of the 
Mad River and would stay over a day to over¬ 
haul some of the wagons which needed repairs. 
Mr. Barney’s sick horse grew worse that night, 
and the next day Barney started off on one 
of his harness horses to find a veterinary sur¬ 
geon. He hadn’t far to go, for half a mile 
beyond the camp was a stock farm whose 
owner was also a veterinary. He was an eld¬ 
erly man with a long iron-gray beard which 
divided in two and, as he drove along in a 
sulkv, flowed out over each shoulder. 

As soon as he saw the sick horse he said: 
“Just high strung and nervous. Nothing the 
matter, but must get off the road for a month.” 

“But,” said Barney, “I have to get on with 
the caravan. You’ve a lot of animals on your 
place. Couldn’t we make a trade, allowing for 
his care in the bargain?” 

The old horse doctor saw a chance to get a 
very good animal and gladly invited Barney 
to come and look over his horses. 

Once at the stock farm, Barney and the old 

24 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


25 


veterinary strolled out into a broad meadow 
that extended almost as far as the eye could 
reach. There were groups of horses grazing 
lazily about and Barney looked them over, but 
could not see any one that was just what he 
wanted. 

Over under a clump of trees stood three 
little ponies, pretty little fellows, and when 
Barney stood trying to make up his mind about 
a big bay he was looking over, one of them 
whinnied. Suddenly he seemed to see a pony 
that had whinnied like that when he was a 
little boy in Pennsylvania. Oh, how he had 
wanted that pony, and then he thought of 
Danny. 

“Say, Doctor, how will you trade for that 
piebald pony? What ’ll you give me to boot?” 

The old horse doctor knew the symptoms of 
a man as well as a horse. Instantly he said to 
himself, “That little boy of his is the apple of 
his eye; he wants a pony for him. He’ll trade 
even if I hold out,” and hold out he did. 

“Well,” thought Barney to himself, “the 
horse is no good to me, and the pony will be 
the greatest thing in the world to Danny.” 

So the trade was carried out; the doctor 
came down to the camp with the pony trotting 
along behind the sulky, and took away the 
sick horse. 

The old horse doctor had thrown into the 


26 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


bargain a very much worn saddle, and Danny 
gasped as Mr. Barney picked him up and 
perched him on the pony’s back. 

“Is he really ours?” asked Danny as he clung 
to the pommel of the saddle, a good deal 
frightened but more delighted. 

“No, Danny, he isn’t ours. He’s yours— 
yours to ride, the same as Captain Haynes. 
Maybe the captain will let you help run the 
caravan. First thing is to learn to ride. Don’t 
pull on his mouth; just let the rein touch him 
on the side of his neck when you want him 
to turn right or left. Now we’ll shorten up the 
stirrups and to-morrow I’ll show you how to 
fasten the cinch strap so the saddle won’t turn. 
In an hour you will be able to ride him, his 
gait is so easy and his back is so round.” 

Danny walked his pony back and forth until 
he grew brave enough to let go of the pommel, 
and almost before he knew it he and the little 
horse had made friends. Nebuchadnezzar felt 
that he was being forgotten and dashed madly 
up and down, barking as loud as he could to 
attract a little attention to himself; but, al¬ 
though every dog has his day, this day wasn’t 
Nebuchadnezzar’s. By and by the poor little 
dog sneaked away under the big wagon and 
growled himself to sleep. 

The next day while the wagons were being 
repaired Barney on one of his horses and 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


27 


Danny on his pony, which he had named Dicko, 
rode over to a large town nearby to buy new 
clothes. This was soon done, for neither of 
them was very particular so long as the color 
of the clothes was not blue. The clothier 
packed up the suits in a large pasteboard box 
and they started back to the camp. Then 
Barney went over to another store and came 
out with a baseball and bat. Danny kept a 
sharp lookout for the overseers of the poor, but 
no one seemed to be looking for him, and he 
trotted along behind old Barney and, once out 
of the town, soon forgot everything except 
that he was the happiest little boy in the world. 

Next morning at daylight the caravan was 
making ready to move on. Barney and Danny 
opened the pasteboard box to get out their new 
clothes; but somehow new store clothes didn’t 
quite seem the thing to wear on the dusty road, 
and they tied up the box and put it away again. 

“Maybe Nebuchadnezzar and Dicko would 
not know us, Mr. Barney,” said Danny. 

“No, Danny, I’ll tell you what it is; when 
folks see us in blue jeans ridin’ across the 
United States in our own outfit they think, 
‘My, those fellows must be richer than they 
look!’ But if they see us all in fine store clothes 
driving in an emigrant train, they’ll say, ‘How 
those poor fellows have come down in the 
world!’ I’m going to have a sign painter 


28 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


put the name of this wagon on the side of it— 
'Blue Jeans’—in big letters.” 

With wagons all in good order, axles well 
greased and a new supply of provisions laid in 
—for they were in a prosperous farming coun¬ 
try and Captain Haynes advised everyone to 
take advantage of that fact—the caravan made 
good time over the last few miles of the "Old 
National Pike,” which was still kept in good 
repair. 

This great wagon road ran from Cumber¬ 
land, Maryland, through Virginia and Ohio, 
and was to have been continued all the way 
across the continent. The work of building it 
was started in 18— under the superintendence 
of the United States government, but when the 
road had reached a point near the Ohio and 
Indiana line the locomotive had begun to take 
the place of wagons and flatboats, and what 
had been one of the finest projects of the gov¬ 
ernment at Washington had to be abandoned. 

The road was built after the plan of the roads 
made by the Romans two thousand years ago. 
For many miles at a stretch it ran in a perfectly 
straight line, cutting down hills and filling up 
valleys. The roadway was wide and in many 
places broken stone took up one side. Men 
were always to be seen with stone hammers 
sitting astride long rows of rough stone and 
breaking it up into proper size for the road. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


29 


In about a week after Barney traded the 
sick horse for Dicko the end of the great 
road had been reached, and after a mile of 
floundering through mudholes the caravan 
came to a river which was almost overflowing 
its banks. Late in the afternoon Captain 
Haynes made up his mind that it would be 
useless to attempt a crossing before night set 
in. Perhaps the river might go down by 
morning. 

It was a very dismal place to camp. The 
ground was spongy, and the wagons had to be 
drawn carefully to prevent sinking up to the 
hubs. There was plenty of driftwood about 
and Danny was learning every day to pick out 
the best kinds for making a fire. He knew 
better than to gather willow sticks, for they 
“hold water,” and, “Uncle Barney, punky wood 
won’t burn, either. Hickory bark’s good, an’ 
once I found a little white tree that had curly 
bark and it sizzled and burned up in a minute.” 

“That was white birch. Where I came 
from the woods were full of it,” said Barney, 
who was now “Uncle” Barney. “P’raps you’d 
better gather a little wood for Mrs. Elmore, 
Danny. She’s having a hard time with that 
horse that went lame, and she hasn’t a fire 
yet.” 

A few minutes later Danny and Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar were busy gathering wood for “Aunt 


3 ° 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Mary.” Not that Nebuchadnezzar did any of 
the work, but when Danny picked up a dry 
stick the little dog caught hold of the other 
end with his teeth, shook it a moment, and 
then ran around in circles, barking and other¬ 
wise trying to show that he approved of his 
master’s kindly act. 

Aunt Mary, when she had finished rubbing 
liniment on the lame horse’s leg, found a big 
pile of firewood back of her wagon ready to 
light, and Danny just slipping away without a 
word. But Nebuchadnezzar was not so modest. 
He danced and barked about her skirts, seem¬ 
ing to try to say, “See what I did for you, Aunt 
Mary!” But Aunt Mary paid no attention to 
him. Instead she made three or four great 
strides in her man’s boots and picked up little 
Danny, gave him a bear’s hug, and set him 
down. Then she went back to her work. 

The sun went down that night in a curious 
yellow haze, and just as it set the rim of a deep 
purple cloud cut across it. Gusts of ice-cold air 
would sweep through the great forest in which 
they were encamped, to be succeeded by a 
sudden rush of warm winds and moments of 
dead calm. Captain Haynes rode round to Mr. 
Barney’s wagon just at dusk, and Danny heard 
him talking to Uncle Barney very earnestly. 
All he could make out, though, was: 

“It is bad we can’t get out in the open. I 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


3i 


don’t liko these woods. I’m having- all hands 
haul their wagons around with backs to the 
west. We’re going to have weather before 
morning or I am mistaken in the signs!” 

“I’m afraid you’re right, Captain. I’ve been 
lookin’ at the sky all afternoon. The wind’s 
been shifting about, and when it blows hot and 
cold you can generally look for trouble. I 
picked out this spot because the trees here¬ 
about are small and I got Mrs. Elmore to get 
away from that big oak down yonder.” 

Danny began to feel a little frightened. Not 
that he understood all that was said, but the 
tone of Captain Haynes’s voice showed that 
he was anxious about something. So Danny 
picked up Nebuchadnezzar and carried him 
to the wagon and made a little bed for him 
under his berth. Then he thought of Dicko, 
who was tethered to a tree. Danny brought 
him over and tied his halter strap to the wagon 
wheel. He wanted his pets near him, so that 
if anything happened he could help them. 

Several of the campers came over toward 
Barney’s wagon, Aunt Mary among them, and 
they talked earnestly together. 

“What’s Haynes askeard of?” asked one of 
the men, a fat man who wore a butternut-col¬ 
ored suit with a three-cornered piece of blue 
cloth sewed into the back of his trousers. 
“Ketch me hitchin’ up my team to move my 


32 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


wagon. I ain’t ’feared of nothin.’ These 
skeary folks is always conjurin’ up trouble. 
I’m goin’ to bed.” And he waddled off to his 
wagon, his cowhide boots squashing through 
the spongy ground. 

“I’m ‘askeard’ just the same as Captain 
Haynes,” said Mr. Barney. “I slept out in the 
open four years and I know weather signs 
pretty well. All we can do is make everything 
as snug and tight as we can and trust in the 
Almighty to see us through.” 

Before midnight the camp had quieted down. 
Everyone had gone to bed except Captain 
Haynes. He had rolled up in a blanket, but 
was fully dressed. Mr. Barney lay awake a 
long time, but finally fell into a doze. An old 
clock in the next wagon had just struck two 
when Barney awoke with a start. In the upper 
branches of the trees there was a strange wail¬ 
ing sound among the young leaves, a few great 
drops of rain rattled on the canvas top. Then 
without an instant’s warning came a distant 
roar that seemed to shake the very ground. 
Louder and nearer it came, and now was added 
to it the sound of the crashing of falling trees. 

The dog under Danny’s bed set up a fright¬ 
ened whine. Slipping out of his bunk, Barney 
reached over and lifting little sleeping Danny 
out of his bed, let himself quickly out of the 
end of the wagon, and, with his arm still about 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


33 


the boy, lay flat on the ground. Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar had followed and crawled in close to 
Dannv’s side. 

Hardly a moment had this taken, yet in that 
moment the storm was upon them, tearing and 
twisting great forest trees up by the roots, 
upsetting wagons, and stampeding the horses 
which were fortunate enough to escape falling 
trees and flying branches. A cyclone, such as 
are not uncommon in that part of the country, 
had struck the camp and torn it to pieces in a 
moment. Then with a roar that died away it 
was over and only a few clouds appeared scud- 
dling across the moon. 

Cries and screams could be heard in every 
direction; worst of all to hear were the screams 
of several poor horses caught under fallen 
trees. Danny awoke in a fright and Barney 
had a hard time trying to calm the little fellow. 
Only when Danny found that Nebuchadnezzar 
and Dicko were unhurt did he leave off sobbing. 

Then Barney went over to see how “Aunt 
Mary” had fared, and found that she was safe, 
although a tree had fallen across the front of 
her wagon. Leaving Danny in her care, Bar¬ 
ney made his way through the wreckage to the 
captain’s wagon, and with lanterns, aided by 
the moonlight, they went to aid those whose 
wagons had suffered the most damage. 

One poor fellow had a broken leg and his 


34 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


wagon was turned upside down. When the 
rescue party reached him one wheel was still 
turning above him. Several of the caravaners 
had broken arms and many were bruised and 
blood-stained, but, as Captain Haynes said, 
they should all offer up a prayer of thanks¬ 
giving that no one was killed. The poor horses 
did not fare so well. 

“Aunt Mary” lost one, killed instantly by the 
falling tree which damaged her wagon, and 
Barney was obliged to shoot one of his wheel 
horses, which was caught under a great tree 
that lay twisted in two across his back. 

In making their way through the camp, 
Barney and Captain Haynes came to the 
wagon occupied by the fat man. An immense 
tree under which he had made his camp the 
night before had fallen and snapped off the 
tongue of his wagon, but had done no other 
damage. 

A voice from inside the wagon asked, “Is 
it all over?” and being assured by Barney that 
there was no further danger, nothing to be 
“askeard of,” Mr. Columbus Jones crawled 
cautiously out to look for his horses. 

At dawn the camp looked as though the cara¬ 
van was ruined. Canvas covers had many of 
them been torn to ribbons and others blown 
away into the tops of the trees. Danny and 
several other little boys made good use of their 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


35 


practice at climbing- hickory and walnut trees 
by bringing many of these down. 

Barney and Aunt Mary were busy helping 
a doctor, an invalid who was traveling with 
the caravan out to the mountains, in hopes of 
prolonging his life. Under his guidance broken 
limbs were set in rude splints made from barrel 
staves and box lids, and wounds and bruises 
washed and bound up. Before noon the camp 
was in some kind of order and Captain Haynes 
called on everyone who was able to walk to 
assemble on a little rising of ground near the 
river. 

It was Sunday morning when the cyclone 
struck the camp, and when everyone who was 
unhurt, including Aunt Mary, Mr. Columbus 
Jones, Mr. Barney, and Danny, had assembled 
on the river bank, an old white-haired man 
who wore a black stock and a faded blue cloak 
arose and gave thanks to the Almighty for 
sparing the lives of all the caravan. 

Then he preached a short sermon and called 
for some one to start a hymn of thanksgiving. 
At first no one seemed inclined to lead, but 
when he found no one else would start, Barney 
stumped out into the open space in front of 
the old preacher. He felt that he, of all the 
people there, had the most to be thankful for, 
and his big strong voice was soon joined by the 
whole assembly. 


36 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


After the service was over Captain Haynes 
had a few words to say. 

In the morning, when the sun rose on the 
wrecked camp, he had been almost ready to 
give up; but now he felt a renewed courage, 
he felt that they were all ready to repair their 
damages and go ahead, no matter what hap¬ 
pened. All they needed was faith in them¬ 
selves and trust in God. 

Little Danny listened to the words of these 
men that Sunday morning, and life, which had 
been just eating and sleeping and loving 
Uncle Barney and Nebuchadnezzar and Dicko, 
seemed all at once to be a bigger thing. Just 
what, Danny did not know; but he knew one 
thing. He was a different Danny, grown older 
in a night. 


CHAPTER IV 


A LL of the next week was spent on the 
banks of the river, repairing' broken 
wagons and torn canvas covers, and cutting 
away fallen trees that made it impossible to 
move many of the wagons. Broken bones 
would take some weeks to mend, but this 
would go on with a little care while traveling, 
and Captain Haynes hoped to cross the river 
on Monday morning. 

Already he and Barney had forded it on 
horseback several times to make sure there 
were no quicksands or mudholes in the cross¬ 
ing. A long rope was stretched across the 
river and fastened with a block and tackle to 
an immense sycamore on the other side. A 
heavy team of horses was hitched to this and 
on Monday morning before the team attached 
to the first wagon, which was Barney’s, drove 
into the water, the end of the rope was fastened 
securely to the iron ring on the end of the 
wagon tongue. Then at a signal from Barney 
to the captain on the farther bank, the heavy 
team started away from the sycamore tree, the 
dripping line tightened up, and Barney’s horses 
stepped into the muddy stream, dragging the 

37 


38 DANNY’S PARTNER 

“Blue Jeans/’ lurching from side to side, after 
them. 

Barney rode the off wheeler, and Danny with 
a long halter strap stood in the rear end of the 
wagon, coaxing Dicko into the swift stream. 

Nebuchadnezzar ran back and forth from 
the front seat to the back of the wagon, bark¬ 
ing out some kind of orders which nobody 
understood or paid much attention to except 
at one very critical moment when Barney cried, 
“Drat that dog! He’ll swamp us yet with his 
noise,” and cracked his whip so close to Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar’s ears that he fled howling to 
Danny. But Danny was too busy steering 
Dicko through a deep place where the little 
pony had to swim, to pay any heed to the 
frightened dog. 

At one place in the river they would certainly 
have stuck fast in the mud had it not been for 
the block and tackle and the big team of Cap¬ 
tain Haynes. It was almost nightfall before 
all the wagons were across, and the caravaners 
found themselves in a worse camping ground 
even than the one they had left. Danny was 
wet up to his knees, dragging driftwood for 
his fire, and the wood was so damp that it 
would scarcely burn. 

But at last he had his coffee pot steaming, 
and Uncle Barney brought the wagon seat 
down by the fire, wrapped Danny up in a big 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


39 


blanket and made him take off his stockings 
and shoes and get his feet warm and dry 
before he went to bed. 

“Don’t do to get wet around these river 
beds. This isn’t the healthiest country I know. 
You’ve got to be careful.” Barney left the 
little boy dreaming by the fire while he looked 
after his horses. Nebuchadnezzar, who had 
been foraging about for stray bones, came and 
rubbed his nose against Danny’s hand. 

“Nebuchadnezzar, are your feet wet? Yes, 
sir, they are, just as wet as they can be. Come 
right here and dry them; it isn’t healthy to 
have wet feet,” and Danny held up one of the 
dog’s little paws after the other before the 
blaze, but when he was all through, a chip¬ 
munk chattered on a log near by and Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar jumped out into the swampy ooze 
and his feet were soon wetter than ever. 

The next morning a gray fog almost hid 
the camp and Danny had to try many times 
before he got his fire started. “After this,” he 
said to himself, “I’ll get some dry sticks before 
night and put them in the wagon.” Just as the 
sun rose a little breeze sprang up, and soon the 
fog was breaking and floating ribbons of pink- 
and-gold mist curled in and out among the 
trees and melted away. White-topped wagons 
appeared among the trees and little columns 


40 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


of blue smoke arose in thin lines straight up 
toward the sky. 

Dannv saw all this and it filled his heart with 

m/ 

a strange joy that he did not understand— 
something that had to do with that Sunday 
morning after the cyclone—the bigger world 
he had waked up in. 

“We must make a big day’s run to-day, 
Barney,” called Captain Haynes. “Fm going 
to call on you and Danny to jog up the strag¬ 
glers. Danny, your job is to ride back on your 
pony if anybody lags and see what the trouble 
is, then come back and tell Mr. Barney.” 

Danny almost burst with pride at this order. 
He felt that he was almost a sergeant or cor¬ 
poral or something important which the cara¬ 
van couldn’t do without. 

At noon Aunt Mary had not appeared over 
the last rising ground and Danny rode back 
to see if she were in trouble. At the bottom 
of the hill he found one of the front wheels 
of her wagon had gone through a rotten plank 
in a little bridge over a brook. As soon as 
Danny saw the wagon was stuck fast, he called 
out, “Never mind. Aunt Mary, I’ll get help 
right away!” 

“No, no, Danny; you and I are as good as 
any two men in the caravan. Hitch your pony 
to the fence alongside of my horses and we’ll 
get a rail and pry the wheel out.” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


4i 


Aunt Mary picked out a stout rail from the 
worn fence alongside the road and she and 
Danny tugged and hung on the end of it after 
they had made a lever of the rail by rolling a 
big stone up near the wheel for a “bight.” 
Many times they had the wheel almost over 
on the sound planks of the bridge, and then 
it would roll back. At last Aunt Mary thought 
of a plan to hold the wheel. 

“Danny,” she said, “take that rope hanging 
on the wagon, tie it to the pommel of Dicko’s 
saddle, lead the pony up alongside the wagon, 
and fasten the other end of the rope to one of 
the spokes of the wheel. Then when we raise 
the wheel up, tell Dicko to 'get up’!” 

Dicko seemed to understand, and when he 
was backed up beside the big wagon looked 
over his shoulder at Danny as much as to say, 
“I’m here, ready to help.” 

Then Aunt Mary and Danny put all their 
might on the rail, and just as the wheel reached 
the level of the bridge, Danny shouted, “Git 
ep! Dicko!” and little Dicko showed what a 
strong little horse he was by pulling the wagon 
wheel clear of the rotten plank. Danny patted 
the little pony and rubbed his nose while Aunt 
Mary got him a piece of maple sugar. 

They put the fence rail down in place of the 
rotten plank, hitched up the horses, and started 
along after the caravan, Danny riding ahead 


42 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


to report to Mr. Barney. That night when 
they went into camp Aunt Mary got out her 
camp stove and a deep skillet, and when Cap¬ 
tain Haynes came around to see if her wagon 
was all right Danny was just finishing the first 
big round cruller that came bubbling out of 
the skillet. 

“Good boy, Danny!” he called, after Mrs. 
Elmore had told the story of her mishap and 
how Danny and Dicko had helped her out. 
“You just look out for 'Aunt Mary’ and see 
she don't get in any trouble. By the way, 
Mrs. Elmore, you’ll never lack help as long as 
you can make doughnuts like these. Yes, I’ll 
take another, thank you,” and away he rode 
feeling that this was a good world in spite of 
cyclones, mudholes and overflowing rivers. 

There was one member of the caravan, how¬ 
ever, who found this moving, always moving, 
from one place to another upset all his plans. 
It was pleasant, to be sure, to find new woods 
to bark at squirrels in and new fields every 
day where he could chase rabbits, but Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar never could understand why he 
had to move on every morning, leaving two 
or three fine bones which he had spent hours 
burying the night before. It was against all 
the laws of properly brought-up dogs to leave 
a good bone above ground; and he was missing 
the greatest pleasure known to an industrious 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


43 


little dog, that of digging them up again. And 
Dicko was taking up too much of Danny’s 
time. It was no use trying to bite Dicko’s legs, 
because they were so shaggy that he couldn’t 
get a hold with his little sharp teeth. So Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar would have been very unhappy if 
it hadn’t been for one thing. Ever since the 
cyclone he had been allowed to sleep in the 
wagon under Danny’s bunk, and Dicko 
couldn’t get into the wagon at all. 

The caravan had a hard time getting through 
the swampy country for a hundred miles or 
more. Making very slow progress and tiring 
the poor horses pulling the heavy wagons out 
of mudholes and quicksands. Then for a while 
came some better roads, followed by more 
swamps as they neared the Mississippi. The 
month of May was almost gone and one night 
Captain Haynes gave the word that by the next 
day they would be on the banks of the great 
river. 

There had been a flood earlier in the spring 
and every now and then Danny would see an 
old hencoop or corncrib lodged in the willow 
bushes. In one place, part of a barn had been 
washed down across the road and the wagons 
had to go around it. For several days a little 
band of horsemen had traveled along after the 
caravan, never camping with them, disappear¬ 
ing as night approached. 


44 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“Look like a lot of guerillas,” said old Bar¬ 
ney to Mrs. Elmore. “Hitch your horses to 
your wagon nights and sleep with one eye 
open and your gun where you can reach it 
quick.” 

“The man who ferried us over the bayou 
told me the same thing day before yesterday, 
Mr. Barney. 'Look out for your horses, lady/ 
he said, 'there's rustlers down by the river 
that 'll run off any stock they can lay their 
hands on. So I'm warned and prepared for 
them.” And Aunt Mary strode away in her 
big boots while the stock of a big horse pistol 
half as long as her arm stuck out from under 
her apron. 

Danny and old Barney had been asleep for 
a long time. It was almost morning, but still 
dark, when Nebuchadnezzar pricked up one 
ear and opened one eye. Then the hair on his 
back rose a little and he growled, just a low 
growl and not enough to wake Barney or 
Danny. 

A knife cutting leather makes very little 
noise, and is quicker than untieing a halter. 
Very quietly two men were freeing Barney's 
three horses from the wagon, leaving the ends 
of the halter straps dangling from the iron 
rings where Barney had so carefully tied them. 
As the three horses started away, led by the 
men, Dicko, who was tethered on the other 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


45 


side of the wagon, whinnied. Danny woke up 
at the sound, but Barney snored on. Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar growled, but there was no further 
sound and Danny yawned and turned over to 
sleep again. 

Down at Aunt Mary’s wagon the same thing 
was happening. She had three horses also, and 
two or three minutes after Barney’s horses 
had been led away hers went also. The wagons 
of Barney and Mrs. Elmore were on the out¬ 
skirts of the camp and four men on horseback 
were very quietly leading the six stolen horses; 
at first at a slow walk, then faster and faster, 
until they were going over the muddy road 
at a swift gallop. 

The sun came up an hour later and Barney 
lay half awake. It seemed very still. When he 
went to bed he had heard the horses stamping 
and could feel them shake the wagon as they 
tossed their heads about and pulled on their 
halter straps. They seemed very still indeed. 
Barney sprang out of his bunk and pulled up 
the canvas at the side of the wagon and looked 
out. 

“Danny, Danny! Get up and get out on 
Dicko after the horses! They have run off.” 
Hastily pulling on his clothing and adjusting 
his wooden leg, Barney slipped out of the 
wagon. “Great Bolivar! Danny, the halters 
are all cut—the horses are stolen! Mrs. El- 


46 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


more! Mrs. Elmore! My horses are— My 
Lordy! Hers are gone, too.” Without wait¬ 
ing to say any more to Aunt Mary, whose head 
in a wonderful nightcap appeared in the little 
round hole at the back of her wagon cover, 
Barney stumped off to Captain Haynes's 
wagon. “Horse thieves!” he cried as he drew 
near the center of the camp. At this men came 
running from all parts of the camp; many 
hastily strapping on ammunition belts and 
guns. The cry of “Fire!” in a village could not 
have roused its inhabitants more quickly than 
these two words which everyone had been half 
expecting to hear for the last two days. 

In half an hour Captain Haynes had twenty 
heavily armed men in the saddle, on the swift¬ 
est horses in the caravan. Columbus Jones 
said he would stay and guard the women and 
children, but nothing could keep Barney back. 
The blood of the old soldier was roused. 
He had chased guerillas before through the 
swamps, and on horseback his wooden leg was 
as good as a real one. 

The horsemen divided into two troops, one 
going up the river and the other down, Captain 
Haynes heading one and Barney the other. 
The roads were so trampled by the caravan 
near the camp that tracking was impossible, 
and unless they struck the trail when farther 
away, the only thing to do was to trust to 



DANNY’S PARTNER 


47 


chance and to what they might learn from 
people living in the neighborhood. 

Danny wanted to go along with the rest, but 
Barney thought he had better stay and help 
Mr. Columbus Jones guard the camp. In fact, 
Barney wasn’t sure that Danny wouldn’t be 
of more use as a home guard than that portly 
gentleman. 


CHAPTER V 


T HE outlook for Aunt Mary was not very 
happy. She had no money to buy three 
new horses. A heavy mover’s wagon stranded 
out in a bit of swampy woods near the Missis¬ 
sippi River is not of much use to anybody. 
Danny found her sitting on a big stump back 
of her wagon, knitting a pair of socks. 

“Yes, Danny, I might as well keep busy ’s 
long as I have no horse to chase those thieves 
with. If they don’t scatter we may get them 
back, and if we don’t all I can do is to walk. 
So there’s no use worryin’. Get out your ’rith- 
metic and we’ll see if you’ve forgotten your 
twelve times.” 

While Aunt Mary and Danny were busy 
with the knitting and the multiplication table, 
Barney and his men were searching the roads 
and trails which led up the river. For a while 
they felt sure the horses had passed up that 
way, for there were many fresh hoofprints 
on the muddy road. But when they came to 
a place where the road divided and branched 
out in three directions, it looked as though the 
thieves had separated and by and by the roads 
faded out into wood roads and there were no 
longer any hoofprints to guide them. 

48 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


49 


After searching the woods and circling 
around swamps and bayous all day without 
finding either thieves or horses, Barney and his 
men arrived tired and mud-splashed at the 
camp. Very soon after, Captain Haynes and 
his men rode in with the same story to tell. 

Barney had expected to see Mrs. Elmore 
sitting sorrowfully beside her wagon, perhaps 
ready to cry when she saw them all returning 
without the horses, but much was the surprise 
of all the tired horsemen to see a big table on 
rude trestles, made of bottom boards from a 
freight wagon, loaded down with good things 
to eat, and Aunt Mary with a long fork over a 
skillet of hot and sizzling fat, stabbing beauti¬ 
ful brown doughnuts as they rose bubbling 
and sputtering to the surface. 

Half a dozen women of the camp were help¬ 
ing spread a dinner such as the camp hadn’t 
seen since it started from Pennsylvania. 
“They’ll be tired an’ discouraged when they 
get back to-night if they don’t find the horses 
and ’ll want something to cheer ’em up, and 
if they do get ’em it will be a celebration,” said 
Aunt Mary to the other women. And as long 
as Aunt Mary was the chief loser there was 
nothing more to say. Aunt Mary put the 
captain at the head of the table. Wagon seats 
were brought up and the tired thief chasers, 
after a hasty “wash-up” at the little river on 


50 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


whose banks the camp lay, sat around the table 
and told of the day’s search. 

“I carried all the planks for the table, Uncle 
Barney,” said Danny. “Aunt Mary said she 
didn’t believe, after noontime and nobody 
came back, that you’d ever catch them. She 
heard me my ’rithmetic and jogerfy and then 
she said, 'Danny, you go and get up a lot of 
firewood.’ That big black log Dicko brought. 
I slipped a horse collar over Dicko’s neck and 
tied a rope to it, and then fastened it to the log, 
and Dicko just pulled it as easy as anything.” 

“You and Aunt Mary are the best men in 
the camp,” said Barney and Captain Haynes, 
who had listened to Danny’s story, smiled at 
the little boy, and nodded his head. 

After dinner was over Nebuchadnezzar had 
the busiest time of his life burying bones!. 
Long after bedtime he dug and dug, and for 
the first time in many nights Danny went to 
sleep with Nebuchadnezzar still outside the 
wagon. The next day the little dog had his 
reward. The caravan didn’t move on. He, 
for once, was allowed to reap where he had 
sown, and all day long, while the men were 
once more searching for the horse thieves in 
every direction, Nebuchadnezzar dug up his 
treasures and gnawed away at them to his 
heart’s delight. 

“I’m afraid, Mrs. Elmore, your horses are 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


5i 


gone for good,” said Captain Haynes that 
night when at dusk he rode into camp with his 
men. “We’ve got the sheriff on the job, but 
he doesn’t look like much to me. Might be a 
relative of Columbus Jones. You see, we are 
all strangers here and don’t count for a great 
deal with the natives. You can hardly blame 
them. They’re afraid of these outlaws. They 
say there is quite a gang of them, all armed 
men. They make a business of preying on 
movers going west. Now we’ll move your 
wagon on to the Mississippi to-morrow and 
you will stand a better chance of selling out 
there if you think best. At any rate, we won’t 
leave you stranded here. The same goes with 
you, Mr. Barney. We start to-morrow morn¬ 
ing. We are going to be in camp there for a 
week, getting everything in good shape for the 
long journey ahead of us.” 

Aunt Mary was standing at the rear of her 
wagon. Everything she had was neatly packed 
away. All afternoon she and Danny had 
worked at that. “Captain, I know you 
wouldn’t leave me in the lurch and my wagon 
is all ready to go with the caravan, but I’m not 
going with it, not till I get my horses. I’ve 
got an idea. I believe I can get them back, me 
and Danny.” 

“You and Danny?” Both the captain and 
Mr. Barney had to smile. “How can you and 


52 DANNY’S PARTNER 

Danny get them back even if you can find 
them?” 

“You let me have Danny, Mr. Barney, and 
we’ll meet you on the Mississippi next week, 
either with the horses or without.” 

“Well, Mrs. Elmore, we know you are a 
sensible woman, able to take care of yourself, 
and if you’ve got a plan, for one, I’m willing to 
let you try it out,” said the captain. “What 
do you say about Danny, Mr. Barney?” 

“If Danny wants to go with his Aunt Mary, 
I’ll trust her to bring the boy back safe,” replied 
Barney. 

“I’ll go and help Aunt Mary bring back our 
horses, Uncle Barney. You’ve took me away 
from the poorhouse and give me a pony and 
I’ll bring you back your horses.” Danny’s 
words were very brave for a little boy, but yet 
he was only a very little fellow and inside of 
him he felt his heart beat very fast and he felt 
just a tiny bit frightened. He went up and 
put his small hand in Aunt Mary’s big hard 
one, and Captain Haynes bade them good night 
as he walked off with Barney. 

“I wonder what that woman’s got up her 
sleeve, Barney. She is no idle talker. She’s 
got an idea and I half believe she’ll put it 
through.” 

Mrs. Elmore, meantime, was making her 
way to a big camp fire where many of the 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


53 


caravaners were sitting about. “Any of you 
gentlemen who have bandana handkerchiefs 
and will lend them to me, will do me a favor. I 
want a dozen or more, and anyone who has a 
red or yellow shawl. I don’t want to say just 
now what I am going to do with them, but 
you will all know about it later.” 

“Anything you say goes, Mrs. Elmore,” 
called out one of the younger men as he untied 
a big red bandana which he wore around his 
neck, and in a moment or two she had fifteen 
or twenty colored handkerchiefs in her hands, 
while some of the women went to their wagons 
to get her any bright-colored cloth or shawls 
they had stowed away. One woman brought 
a yellow shawl with large pink flowers and 
green leaves for a border, and another a piece 
of red calico. 

“Ell bet she’s goin’ to get up a masquerade 
when we make camp on the Mississippi. Did 
you ever see anybody take a loss like Mrs. 
Elmore?” and Mr. Columbus Jones looked 
around, proud to feel he had guessed the secret. 

Little Danny was to sleep in Aunt Mary’s 
wagon that night, and about four o’clock in 
the morning an old gypsy woman with a gypsy 
boy stole quietly out of the camp and disap¬ 
peared up the misty road back toward the east. 
The gypsy woman had a bundle slung by a 


54 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


strap over her shoulder and the little gypsy 
boy carried a leather bag in the same way. 

“Your name is Pedro,” said the old gypsy 
woman, “and mine is Donna Andrea—they’re 
names I read in a book. You must call me 
Donna Andrea over and over ’till you get used 
to it, Pedro.” 

“All right, Aunt Mary,” said Pedro. 

“No, no, Danny! Donna Andrea! There, 
I called you Danny, didn’t I?” and Aunt Mary, 
all done up in a strange dress, the waist made 
of red and vellow and blue bandanas and with 
a bright yellow shawl wound around her head, 
and a pair of old brass curtain rings for ear¬ 
rings, began to laugh. Pedro, with his curly 
black hair which hadn’t been cut since he left 
the poorfarm, looked like a real gypsy. 

“We’re going to bring back the horses, 
Donna Andrea, you and Pedro, and won’t Un¬ 
cle Barney be glad to see us!” 

“Yes, indeed, Dan—Pedro,” said Donna An¬ 
drea. “We are not quite yellow enough for 
real gypsies, but when we get to the little 
town this side of the bayou I will get some 
stuff at the drug store and we will rub that 
on our faces. Then we’ll look like real gyp¬ 
sies.” 

Donna Andrea was on her way back to the 
old ferryman at the bayou who had warned 
her when they crossed to be on the lookout 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


55 


for horse thieves. He must know a good deal 
about their ways and perhaps where they took 
their horses to sell them. She felt pretty sure 
that the thieves had taken the horses back from 
the river, for Captain Haynes and Mr. Barney 
had been over every road both up and down 
the valley. 

It took Donna Andrea and Pedro a long time 
to reach the little village and the drug store. 
The old druggist eyed Donna Andrea with a 
good deal of suspicion, but she had money to 
pay for the dark brown liquid which he mixed 
for her, and his business was to sell and not 
to ask questions. 

Before they reached the bayou ferry they 
stopped for a while and ate a cold lunch which 
came out of Pedro’s leather bag. Then Donna 
Andrea took out her little bottle and a piece of 
soft rag and put a deep coat of brown over 
Pedro’s already dark and well-tanned face. 
“Shut your eyes tight, Pedro, till it dries,” she 
said, “and then you can paint my old face. 
Aren’t you the little Indian? Nobody would 
believe you’d ever have been white.” An hour 
later they reached the ferry. The old ferry¬ 
man didn’t seem very glad to see them. 

“Well, well,” he snarled, “I s’pose there’ll be 
a whole bunch more of you coming. As if 
they wasn’t enough horse thieves and bad 
characters about.” 


56 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“Does the gentleman want his fortune told?” 
whined Donna Andrea. 

“No, he don’t. If you want to cross the ferry, 
get out your money an’ don’t talk.” 

“Oh, kind gentleman, Donna Andrea and 
Pedro are not poor; we can pay our way,” and 
Donna Andrea reached down in a big pocket 
inside her skirt and pulled out a handful of 
silver and some shin-plasters as they were 
called, little bills for twenty-five cents and fifty 
cents. 

They started across the bayou on the rickety 
old scow, and when halfway over the gypsy 
woman stepped close to the ferryman. “You 
don’t recognize me,” she said. The old man 
started. The voice sounded familiar and as he 
looked her over he saw her big raw-hide boots. 

“What! What! Well, missus, what’s up?” 

“Horse thieves are,” said Aunt Mary in her 
own voice, “and I’m after them.” 

“And you’re the big woman with the three- 
horse team I give warnin’ to!” 

“And this is the little boy who rode the pony 
back of my wagon,” continued Aunt Mary. 
“Horse thieves stole into our camp three 
nights ago and stole my three horses and the 
three of Mr. Barney’s. Our captain was out 
with a bunch of men two days after them and 
couldn’t get any trace of horses or thieves, so 


DANNY’S PARTNER 57 

I thought I’d try and see what a woman 
could do.” 

“You’re started in the right direction, mis¬ 
sus, as shore as you are born. Four men with 
ten horses came through here day before yes¬ 
terday, said they had been to the horse fair in 
St. Louis and bought ’em. Six of ’em was har¬ 
ness marked, and as to the men they was a 
tough-looking lot. One of ’em I’ve seen before 
more ’n once with different critturs. But how 
are you, a lone woman with only a little shaver 
with you, goin’ to get back your horses even 
if you find em?” 

“I’ve got my plan. All I ask is to find them,” 
said Donna Andrea. 

“Well, missus,” said the old ferryman as 
they reached the shore, “I don’t like to 
meddle with other people’s affairs but I’ll tell 
you something. I know that rustler and I 
know where he lives. You follow through the 
little town three miles further on and then turn 
to the left till you come to a small river that 
runs west. He lives in an old house on a bluff, 
’longside of the river. You can’t miss it. It’s 
the only house for a mile or more.” 

Thanking the old ferryman, the gypsies 
tramped along the road. Once they stopped 
and sat down on a fallen log to rest. They 
hadn’t been there long when Pedro said, 
“Lookee, Aunt—Donna Andrea, something’s 


58 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


coming up the road!” Whatever it was, it 
wasn’t very big and it ran from side to side. 
“It’s a dog, Aunt Mary!” cried Pedro. “It's 
Nebuchadnezzar!” and the little boy ran into 
the roadway and with a joyful but feeble yelp 
Nebuchadnezzar jumped into his arms. 

The poor little dog was wet and bedraggled 
and panting, he must have swum across the 
bayou and he had been through briers that 
scratched his poor face until the blood came, 
but he had found Danny at last and he tried 
hard to frisk around and bark. 

“Well, I’m glad he’s come,” said Donna An¬ 
drea. “He’ll be company nights.” 




CHAPTER VI 


"ITJHEN they came to the little town they 
* * found an old man who had a barber shop, 
and out in front of it he had half a dozen bird 
cages and a big green parrot sitting on a perch, 
who shouted, “Hair cut! Hair cut!” and in 
the bird cages were canary birds and linnets. 

Pedro stopped to hear the old parrot talk, 
and Donna Andrea stopped, too. “Pedro,” she 
said, “Pm going to see if the barber will sell 
us a canary bird. Eve seen gypsy women tell 
fortunes with them,” and pretty soon she had 
struck a bargain with the old barber for a little 
bird, and a cage to carry him in. “We’ll look 
more like gypsies now. I told the barber we 
belonged to a big band. The rest were down 
toward St. Louis. We were horse traders, 
mostly. I was a fortune teller. He never sus¬ 
pected me at all. Now we’ll walk about the 
town and let people see us and they will tell 
everybody that the gypsies are coming.” 

When Donna Andrea thought everybody in 
town had seen them they started out toward 
the country to the left and walked until they 
came in sight of the river. There, sure enough, 
on the bluff was a big dismal-looking old house, 

59 


6o 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


unpainted, and no signs of cultivation any¬ 
where around. 

Donna Andrea drew Pedro back into the 
underbrush where they could not be seen, and 
from that shelter took careful note of the road 
where it ran down to the river and of every¬ 
thing about the house and ground. One thing 
she felt sure of—the horses were not there, 
for she could see all the small meadow and 
pasture lot, and the barn was a small tumble- 
down affair and not big enough to hold more 
than two or three animals. Another thing 
seemed strange—the road ran straight to the 
river and stopped there, yet no bridge was to 
be seen. 

“Well, Pedro,” said Donna Andrea, “we 
can’t do any more to-night. Now we must look 
up a place to sleep. Luckily it’s warm and no 
sign of rain. We will go back to that piece 
of thick woods we passed and get away far 
enough from the road to be out of sight and 
build a little fire and cook our supper.” With 
Nebuchadnezzar smelling about in the bushes, 
they followed a wood road back until they came 
to a great oak tree with close spreading 
branches. Scattered about were plenty of dry 
chips left by the woodsmen, and Pedro built 
a fine fire between two flat stones. Donna 
Andrea opened her pack and soon the smell of 
frying bacon set an edge to Pedro’s appetite. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


61 


A bit of cold meat made a dinner for Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar, and as the darkness gathered 
about them they felt that they were gypsies 
indeed. Over in an open field which bordered 
the woods was a haystack, and Pedro carried 
several armloads of hay over to the foot of the 
big tree. When the fire died down Donna An¬ 
drea brought out a blanket from her pack. 
She and Pedro and Nebuchadnezzar snuggled 
under it on the hay. The canary’s cage, with 
a cloth over it, hung from a limb of the oak, 
safe from any prowling animal, and soon the 
gypsies and their dog and bird were fast asleep. 

When Pedro awoke the stars were just fad¬ 
ing up above the oak tree. Donna Andrea was 
still asleep and Pedro crept very carefully out 
from under the blanket so as not to waken 
her. Nebuchadnezzar seemed to sleep with 
only one eye and one ear at a time. He was 
up as soon as Pedro and together they slipped 
out to the edge of the wood to see the run rise. 
Pedro knew the name of the morning star. 
Dr. Silvester had told him that, and Barney 
had taught him the names of almost all the 
trees—all except a few that didn’t grow in 
the part of the country where Barney came 
from. Pedro knew a great deal about the trees, 
himself, that nobody else knew, he and Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar only. Always he felt safe when 
he was near the oak tree, and happy with the 


62 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


maple. He loved to hear the pine trees singing 
in the wind, and when he was in the deep forest 
he could hear the trees talking—especially at 
dusk and in the early dawn. This morning 
the woods were very still; they seemed to be 
listening, and Pedro and Nebuchadnezzar 
listened, too. What was that strange tramping 
or stamping? It sounded like horses on a 
barn floor, but there was no barn anywhere 
near, only the little tiny one on the bluff. 

The woods where Donna Andrea and Pedro 
made their camp were not very far from the 
river, but downstream half a mile or more 
from the house on the bluff. Nebuchadnezzar 
cocked up one ear and looked at Pedro to see 
if he, too, had heard a strange noise. “Clump, 
clump!” it went again. Pedro knew the sound, 
it was the sound of horses in a stable stamping 
to shake off flies. He held up his finger to 
Nebuchadnezzar. 

The little dog knew that meant silence, and 
together the boy and the dog slipped away into 
a deep gully and very quietly made their way 
down toward the river. Near the bed of the 
stream the bushes grew very thick and great 
piles of driftwood had been washed high above 
the clay banks in some great flood, and were 
lodged among the sycamores and beeches. 
Along the river bed a covered bridge, which 
must have spanned the river at the road below 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


63 

the bluff, was lodged where the sweeping 
waters had left it when the flood went down. 
It had been lifted clean off the abutments and, 
except it was twisted somewhat out of shape, 
was hardly damaged. From within came the 
sounds of the stamping of many horses. 

Pedro could see where a rough roadway had 
been made through the woods to one end of 
the bridge; at the other end a gate had been 
hung and some planks laid so that the horses 
could be taken down to the stream to be 
watered. It didn’t take the little boy long to 
make up his mind that their horses were inside 
the covered bridge, but he did not dare go too 
near, and so he and Nebuchadnezzar ran back 
as fast as they could go to where he had left 
Donna Andrea fast asleep. 

He found that old gypsy woman busy cook¬ 
ing breakfast, and, with his heart thumping so 
hard he could scarcely speak, Pedro told of his 
discovery. 

“Danny—Pedro, we’ve got them. If we 
don’t go back to camp with our horses my 
name is not Mary Elmore. No, we won’t say 
that, for my name to-day is Andrea. Hurry 
up and eat your breakfast, Pedro. We must 
get out on the road where these precious horse 
thieves can see us.” 

Half an hour later an old gypsy fortune 
teller was sitting alongside the road. On a 


6 4 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


little stand she had made with sticks stuck in 
the ground rested the bird cage. Cross-legged 
on the ground sat Pedro; and on his lap was 
spread out a piece of paper with strange figures, 
circles, half moons and other devices which 
he had drawn with a piece of burnt stick. As 
near as he could remember, they were like the 
ones in Barney’s Almanac. 

A man was coming down the road on horse¬ 
back from the direction of the house on the 
bluff, and Pedro was studying his chart, or 
whatever it might be called, as solemn as a 
little owl. 

“Please, dear gentleman, have your fortune 
told by the little bird and Donna Andrea!” 
whined the old gypsy woman, her old brown 
face peering out from under a turban of vellow 
silk. 

“This morning I’m telling my own fortune, 
old woman, and it’s a pretty good one!” 

“Please, good gentleman, stop a minute. I 
can tell if it’ll come true; it’s only two bits, 
rich gentleman!” 

“Well,” said the horseman, leaning with one 
hand on his horse’s neck, “I’ll give you two 
bits if you can tell me what I’m thinking about 
this minute.” 

“Pedro, look at the gentleman, then find him 
on the paper. Pretty bird, look at the gentle¬ 
man, tell old Andrea what is the rich gentle- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


65 


man thinking about ?" Donna Andrea shut 
her eyes and rocked back and forth, then she 
suddenly shivered and opened her eyes wide, 
staring beyond the man on horseback as 
though he wasn't there. 

Almost in a whisper she said: “You are 
thinking of selling a horse—horses—horses. I 
see you with much money—real gold, and poor 
Andrea two bits, two bits!" 

“You've earned 'em, old dame! I don't know 
how you gypsies do it, but that's just what 
I'm thinking exactly. Only I don't see the 
end of it, I don't see yet who is going to buy 
them. If you could tell me that I’d go two 
bits more." 

“Give me my two bits you owe me, first, 
rich gentleman," whined old Donna Andrea. 

“Here they are, and the two more. Don't 
you try to do me out of the other answer, now, 
you and the brat and the bird, or you'll wish 
you hadn't." 

“Kind gentleman, a gypsy keeps her word, 
but Andrea doesn't have to ask the boy or the 
bird to answer your second question. Rich 
gentleman, did you ever see a lone gypsy trav¬ 
eling over the country? No, it is not our way. 
Our queen is on her road from St. Louis and 
will be here with ten wagons to-morrow. She 
has much money and needs horses. I, who 
look so old and feeble, kind gentleman, am a 



66 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


horsewoman.” And Donna Andrea rose up in 
her man’s boots and shook her shoulders, a 
great, fierce-looking gypsy. “Sometimes you 
see me, good gentleman, telling fortunes with 
the little bird, very old—very feeble; another 
time you see me buying, selling, trading, rid¬ 
ing. What are the horses you have to sell?” 

The change in Donna Andrea from the bent- 
over whining hag of a fortune teller to the 
alert, fiery old gypsy horse trader was so sud¬ 
den that the man on horseback straightened 
up in his saddle and even his horse fell back 
a pace or two. 

Here was a chance to get the stolen horses 
off his hands, but whether to believe this old 
gypsy woman or not was the question. He 
knew that the gypsies had a queen who was a 
woman of property, having a winter head¬ 
quarters near the Miami River in Ohio, and 
the big woman looking at him so keenly was 
no ordinary fortune teller—that he could see. 

It was a risky business he was in, anyway, 
and he tugged at his fierce mustache—it was a 
little too dark—and thought a minute or two. 
At last he said, “If you want six or eight good 
sound animals I’ve got them. When will your 
outfit be along here?” 

“Not before to-morrow, but the queen gen¬ 
erally lets me look up her horses for her. Tell 
me where your horses are and I’ll come and 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


67 

look them over; but if your horses are not 
good ones don’t bother to show ’em. We travel 
with good stock and I know horses when I 
see them.” 

So it was arranged that Donna Andrea was 
to come over to the house on the bluff in the 
afternoon. When the fierce-mustached horse¬ 
man had ridden away, Donna Andrea picked 
up her bird cage, shouldered her pack, and, 
with Pedro and Nebuchadnezzar, started back 
to the village where she bought six rope halters 
and a sharp knife. 

About four o’clock in the afternoon she 
called to Pedro and said, “Now we are going 
to see Mr. Horse Thief’s animals, and I am 
going to show him some fancy riding.” They 
walked out on the road toward the house on 
the bluff, and just outside the village a little 
child came down to a garden gate and clapped 
her hands. 

“Oh, what a pretty bird!” she cried. 

“Would you like to have a pretty bird?” 
asked the old gypsy. “If you will be very good 
to him you may have this pretty bird, and the 
cage to keep him in,” and she put the cage 
in the little girl’s hands, while Pedro looked 
on, wondering if she would give Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar away next. 

“You see, Pedro, we don’t need the little 


68 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


bird now. Donna Andrea is no longer a for¬ 
tune teller—she is a horse trader now.” 

When they were clear of the town, Donna 
Andrea sat down on a log and told Pedro what 
she was going to do and what he was to do. 
She gave him the sharp knife and he put it in 
his bag. In her pack she had the six halters. 

“When we arrive at the house on the bluff, 
the man there will take us down to the cov¬ 
ered bridge to see the horses. While I look 
them over you climb up, just like boys always 
do, on the big crossbeams that make the side 
of the bridge. Don’t pay any attention to me 
or the horses, no matter what I do; just climb 
round like you was having fun. When I go 
outside with one of the horses to try him, you 
get busy as I told you, and then climb up in the 
crossbeams again on the right-hand side, close 
to the gate. Now don’t forget, for your life 
depends on it and so does mine.” 


CHAPTER VII 


T T was five o’clock when they arrived at the 
A house on the bluff. 

“Well, Mrs. Gypsy, I thought sure you had 
give us the go-by. It’s pretty late.” 

“I had to set some signs for my people,” 
said Donna Andrea. “Guess we’d better get 
right out to see the horses. Where are they?” 

“This way,” replied the rustler. “Come on, 
Dick. Come on, Jim. Dave can stay and cook 
dinner.” 

Donna Andrea took a quick look at Dick and 
Jim. They were an evil-looking pair and each 
carried a six-shooter. Jim had an ugly-looking 
knife in his belt. More than likely it was the 
one that had cut the halters of Aunt Mary’s 
horses. The road down to where the covered 
bridge was lodged was cut through the thick 
brush and wound along the bank of the river. 
The bridge entrance was open, the horses be¬ 
ing secured by halters to the great crossbeams. 
At the far end of the bridge was a gate. 

As they walked down the slanting floor, 
Donna Andrea recognized Barney’s three 
horses at once, and farther down were hers, 
mixed in with the outlaw’s own. One of them 
whinnied when he saw her and for a moment 
she was afraid she was discovered, but no one 
noticed it but herself. 


69 


70 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Nebuchadnezzar was smelling about, but 
soon had a rat to take up his attention. Master 
Pedro, like all boys, began climbing about on 
the crossbeams, but no one paid any attention 
to him; he could only fall and break his neck 
and what was that to Jim or Dick or their 
leader? 

“Which of ’em is good for the saddle?” asked 
Donna Andrea, who was looking at the horses’ 
teeth and examining their feet. 

“The one at the end there,” said Jim. “He’s 
the best single-footer,” and he pointed to the 
leader of Aunt Mary’s team. 

“Put a saddle on him and let me try him,” 
said Donna Andrea. 

“We ain’t got any side saddles lady.” 

“Never mind the side saddle. I can ride any 
way you can and any horse you can.” 

“All right, lady,” said Jim, and a saddle and 
bridle were put on the horse nearest the gate. 

Donna Andrea wore a pair of bloomers 
tucked into her man’s boots, and, gathering up 
her skirts, she was on the horse’s back in a 
moment. “Open the gate and let me try him 
out on the meadow.” 

“Gee whiz! she can ride! Reckon she’s been 
on a horse all her life,” said Jim to Dick. 

Donna Andrea was putting the young horse 
through his paces. A gully, the one Pedro had 
crept down the day before, was directly in front 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


7 i 


of her as she came back toward the gate. It 
was wide, but she took it in a flying leap which 
made the three rustlers open their eyes. In 
she dashed through the open gate and brought 
her horse almost to a halt just inside. “Pedro!” 
she whispered; Pedro swung out from the side 
beams and Donna Andrea caught him by the 
arm and swung him up behind her. 

“I cut them all,” Pedro whispered. 

“Hey! Oh! Wheo! Hoopee!” yelled Donna 
Andrea at the horses in front of her, and pell- 
mell out they all stampeded into the road, 
Donna driving them before her, yelling and 
screaming at the top of her lungs. Back in 
the covered bridge three men were tearing 
after them. Piff! Pafif! two bullets went past 
the fleeing woman. One did no damage, but 
the other broke the leg of one of the fleeing 
horses. He dropped and rolled across the road. 
Donna Andrea’s horse went over him at a full 
gallop. 

The winding road made them a poor target. 
The horses kept well together until the main 
road was reached, and then two of the rustler’s 
horses ran into the dooryard, but the rest of the 
frightened animals kept right on toward the 
village. 

Jim and the bearded man stopped to catch 
their own two horses, while Dick ran up the 
road, firing as he went, but the flying horses, 


72 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


frightened by the noise, were soon beyond 
reach of his gun and precious time for the 
rustlers was being lost in bringing up saddles 
and bridles for the two horses left for pur¬ 
suit. It was growing dusk when Donna An¬ 
drea rode through the town, driving five horses 
fastened with rope halters ahead of her. Pedro 
was holding on behind her and a small dog 
did his best to keep the horses in line. 

“If we can only get across the ferry, Pedro, 
we’re safe. The ferryman lives on the other 
side and he won’t come back after he takes us 
over.” Urging the horses along, they were 
almost down to the bayou’s edge and they 
could see the lanterns on the ferryboat coming 
toward the shore, when the clatter of horses’ 
hoofs could be faintly heard coming from the 
direction of the village. 

Mrs. Elmore, for by this time she had taken 
off her gypsy turban and unpinned a dozen 
or more gay bandanas from the waist of her 
dress, reached down through her old skirt and 
drew out of its holster the long, old-fashioned 
horse pistol. 

“Danny,” she said, “it’s a sin to take human 
life, but these are not men after us, they’re 
wolves. If we don’t make the ferry ahead of 
us I’m afraid I may shoot one of them.” 

Nearer and nearer they came to the ferry 
and nearer and nearer the old scow came to 


L&.a. 



“donna ANDREA” AND “PEDRO” GET BACK THE STOLEN HORSES 


















DANNY’S PARTNER 


73 


the shore, but yet nearer and nearer came the 
sound of hoofbeats on the road. Just as the 
flat-bottomed boat scraped on the mud at the 
landing the woman and little boy and the six 
horses pulled up at the shore. “Here, ferry¬ 
man, hurry up! Let us aboard!” cried Mrs. 
Elmore. 

“Great guns, missus! Ye’ve got the horses, 
ain’t ye? Jes’ wait till I git my passenger off.” 

With a clatter of hoofs two horsemen rode 
up from behind the group on the shore. “Hold 
on there, ferryman; don’t let this gypsy woman 
aboard. She’s a hoss thief; stole these six 
horses from me.” 

“Just wait a minute, will ye?” said the ferry¬ 
man. “My passenger here is the sheriff. Guess 
he’ll know who’s the horse thief!” 

“Jim, I guess we’ve made a mistake. These 
ain’t our horses, after all. Guess we’d better 
be goin’.” And the man with the very fierce 
mustache and his man Jim put spurs to their 
horses and disappeared into the darkness. 

“Haw! Haw! Haw!” laughed the old fer¬ 
ryman. “I told ’em you was the sheriff, Doc¬ 
tor. Lucky it was so dark. Scripture says, 
‘The wicked flee when no man pursueth.’ 
Scripture is generally right.” 

It was two days before Aunt Mary and 
Danny got the brown stain off their faces and 
Aunt Mary caught herself calling Danny 


74 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“Pedro” many times. Then they would laugh. 

One night it rained and a farmer let them 
put their horses in his barn. They slept 
soundly that night in his haymow, but this 
rain, which lasted two days, was a blessing in 
disguise. The rustlers had ridden clear around 
the end of the bayou many miles, and intended 
to head them off before they could reach camp 
on the Mississippi, but the back roads became 
almost impassable and they had to give up 
the chase. Four days after the night Danny 
and Aunt Mary crossed the ferry they came 
in sight of the camp. 

Aunt Mary wound on her yellow silk turban 
around her head and again pinned on all the 
gay bandanas about her waist. Danny, with 
a bright red-and-yellow bandana around his 
neck and a sash made of a strip of red calico 
and without a hat, looked a real gypsy. 

Danny, by this time, was riding one of the 
recovered horses. Just as the campers were 
most of them sitting down to their dinners, 
somebody cried, “Look at the Gypsies!” and 
in rode Donna Andrea and Pedro, each 
mounted and leading two horses. A very tired- 
looking little dog limped along in the rear. 
They had reached the middle of the camp 
before Barney stumped out from behind his 
;wagon. No disguise could hide his little Danny 
from him, and with a shout of “Danny! 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


75 


Danny!—Mrs. Elmore! You've made good, 
you've got the horses!" Barney hopped and 
skipped over to meet them. Captain Haynes 
rode up at that moment and Aunt Mary had 
to tell her story at his table that night, she 
and Danny. Barney was there, too, and Ne¬ 
buchadnezzar came into possession of many 
bones which he was too tired to bury. 

“Aunt Mary gave me a big sharp knife, and 
when she took the horse out to try him I 
slipped down off the crossbeams and cut the 
halter straps one after another. Then I climbed 
up again after all the horses were loose, and 
Aunt Mary she came in a-flying and grabbed 
me and nearly pulled my arm out o' joint 
getting me on her horse, then she yelled just 
like a wild Indian at the horses, and they ran 
out on the road and we after them. They shot 
at us and I heard the bullets go tsing—tsing, 
but they hit one of their own horses and ours 
jumped over him when he rolled over across 
the road. I wasn’t afraid a bit except of falling 
off, but that night after we got across the 
ferry and camped out in the woods I kept 
Nebuchadnezzar up close to me, and I was 
most scared to death all night. It was lots of 
fun being Pedro. You oughta hear Aunt Mary 
telling fortunes with a little bird. You could 
hardly tell it was her at all, she had such a 
whiny voice and she sat all scrouged up like 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


76 

the old women at the poorhouse. But when 
she stood up straight and told the old thief 
she was a horse trader she scared his horse 
so he shied back across the road. Sometimes 
I ’most believed she reallv was Donna Andrea. 
You ought to see her on horseback. The yel¬ 
low shawl she had tied round her head came 
loose and hung way out and I could see her 
coming right at the big gully back of the barn. 
The man they called Jim, the one with the 
big knife, said, 'Gee Whillakers, can’t she ride 
a horse!’ only he didn’t zackly say Gee Whill¬ 
akers, and then Aunt Mary she jumped the 
gully and came for the gate. The minute she 
got inside she grabbed me off the crossbeams 
and you’d never think Aunt Mary could yell 
like that, but then she was Donna Andrea and 
we was gypsies, all except Nebuchadnezzar, 
he was just a little dog same as ever.” 

Danny couldn’t give up his red bandana and 
next day he got the name of Pedro many times 
through the camp. Dicko was waiting for him 
when he crept out of the wagon in the early 
morning, and whinnied when he saw his little 
master coming with saddle and bridle. 

Danny had an errand that morning up the 
river. He had heard the night before that 
half a mile up the river above camp was a 
sandy cove, and he thought maybe he would 


DANNY’S PARTNER 77 

lose some of his gypsy complexion with the 
aid of soap and water. 

Dicko gave a little snort when he saw Danny 
plunge into the water, and suddenly made up 
his mind to follow. While Danny and the 
pony were splashing about, Nebuchadnezzar 
appeared on the bank, and he too had to have 
a bath. At breakfast that morning a very 
clean little boy greeted Uncle Barney. The 
sun was shining very warm and bright. Little 
yellow and black birds flew about in a patch 
of purple-topped thistles and in the trees wood 
doves and warblers of many kinds seemed to 
be trying to outdo one another. The camp was 
all astir, for on the morrow a big steamboat 
was going to ferry them across the Mississippi. 
There was something about crossing the great 
river which made everyone feel that they were 
going into a strange new land. 

Columbus Jones was telling everybody about 
his brother who lived in St. Joe, Missouri. 
“He’s the richest man in St. Joe, my brother 
is; he’s got thousands of acres of corn and it 
stands fifteen feet high at the last plowin.’ 
He’s got horses and horses, and cattle so’s you 
can’t count ’em. He’ll be lookin’ for me. 
We’re going in partnership. I’m to have half 
of everything.” 

The fat man looked around to see that every¬ 
one had heard about his brother and himself. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


78 

and then he sat down with wax ends and an 
awl to put a patch over a large hole in the toe 
of his boot. 

Two or three times that day Danny saw 
great flat-bottomed steamers come around a 
bend in the river. At one point the channel 
was close to the river bank and Danny on his 
pony would dash down to the point when he 
heard the deep whistle and the flaf-flaf-flaf! 
of the paddle wheels. 

Ladies in bright-colored flounced dresses and 
great crinolines leaned over the rail on the 
upper deck and waved to the little boy in the 
red bandana who rode the dancing piebald 
pony, and Danny looked at them in wonder. 
They seemed like great big flowers blooming 
behind a garden fence. One of them had a little 
girl with her, and the little girl wore a crinoline 
just like her mother, and her dress had flounces 
on it from top to bottom. Not that Danny 
knew what flounces or crinolines were; all he 
saw were pretty, smiling faces and great fluffy 
dresses that seemed to stand out by themselves 
and shake and bob about like hollyhocks in the 
wind. 

One of the boats, the one the little girl was 
on, had a name that Danny always remem¬ 
bered. It was called The Diamond Joe . Early 
the next morning the dingy stern-wheel steam¬ 
boat which was to ferry them across came 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


79 


puffing up the river. A rude dock had been 
built to run the wagons out on, and very soon 
as many wagons and horses as could be taken 
on one boat were safely aboard. Columbus 
Jones was on the first load to go over, and as 
the boat pulled out Barney could hear him 
telling the mate that his brother was the richest 
man in—and then came a long blast of the 
whistle, so that the mate lost the rest of the 
story. 

Barney was anxious to get to St. Joe, too. 
He hadn’t a rich brother, but he had a new 
wooden leg waiting for him there. He had 
ordered it to be sent from St. Louis. It was 
to be made very light and strong and to careful 
measurements. His old one did well enough 
when he was driving, but it troubled him to 
walk with it. 

In spite of his lost leg, Barney was one of 
the most active men in the caravan. He was 
careful of his health and Danny’s. They never 
sat out in the damp evenings without a fire 
and, they never found, at early dawn, that it 
was too cold for a bath. 

“You never know how good it is to be clean, 
Danny, ’til you’ve been in the army or in a 
poorhouse. Lots of these folks in camp that 
have chills an’ fever and other campers’ 
troubles don’t take proper care of themselves,” 


8o 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


said Barney. “You and I and Mrs. Elmore 
would keep our health ’most anywhere.” 

It was some days before they reached St. 
Joe. Every day as they drew nearer, Columbus 
Jones told about his rich brother who was 
waiting for him. 

Perhaps when St. Joe was a good way off he 
had made his brother’s farm a little too big, 
for every day, as they drew nearer, he took 
off a few acres and the corn mavbe wasn’t 
quite fifteen feet tall, but it was fourteen and 
then twelve and maybe it wasn’t over ten. His 
countless horses and cattle became less and 
less. At last the caravan reached the out¬ 
skirts of St. Joe and made camp on the banks 
of the Missouri. 


CHAPTER VIII 


ip\ANNY and Uncle Barney were busy feed- 
ing and watering the horses when an old 
farmer, very thin and with a few wisps of 
faded whiskers about his withered chin, drew 
up in a rickety buggy with a spoke out of one 
wheel and a bag of corn under the seat. 

“Be you the movers from Bucks County, 
Pennsylvanie?” the old man asked Barney. 

“That's what we are," answered Barney in 
his big hearty voice. “I don't hail from there 
myself, but that's where the caravan started 
from." 

The old farmer took off his rusty hat care¬ 
fully, for the crown was not very securely fast¬ 
ened to the brim, and from it he produced a 
faded envelope. “This here is a letter from my 
brother in Bucks County. He’s a very rich man 
and he was thinkin' of cornin' out, he says, 
jist for the trip to see me. He says he's heard 
I'm most as rich as he is, and he’d like to come 
out and maybe we could go pardners if he liked 
the country. Well, ye see, stranger, I didn't 
want to 'pear like I didn’t have as much as he 
had, so I told him to come along. So I've come 
to see if he's with your outfit. His name is 
Jones, C'lumbus Jones.' 

8t 


82 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Barney looked at Danny and then he looked 
up at the sky and then he startled the poor old 
farmer with a great roar of laughter. “Excuse 
me, my friend, for laughing. I just happened 
to think of something funny before you came 
up. Why, of course I know your brother Co¬ 
lumbus! Rich? Why, yes, I guess he’s just 
about as rich as you be. There he goes now 
across the lot; that’s him in the butternut 
breeches with a three-cornered blue patch in 
the back. Excuse me again, friend, I just 
thought of something else funny.” And Bar¬ 
ney burst out laughing again as the farmer 
touched his bony horse with a long slender 
bough of elder which served him for a whip 
and drove across the lot after Columbus Jones. 

On the way across the state from the Mis¬ 
sissippi to the Missouri Danny spent a good 
deal of time in camp in the evenings with Doc¬ 
tor Sylvester. The doctor had left a large prac¬ 
tice in Philadelphia because he had heeded the 
advice of the Prophet in Holy Writ, “Physician 
heal thyself” (or know thyself?), and he found 
one day that he was a sicker man than almost 
any of his patients. He must live outdoors for 
a few years if he was to live at all. A year 
ago he had advised a patient to go West just as 
he himself was going now. 

Doctor Sylvester was a man of courage and 
he faced his fight for life without fretting. He 


DANNY’S PARTNER 83 

had lost his wife and had no family ties in the 
East. He liked little Danny for many reasons. 
“The boy has very little knowledge, but makes 
good use of what he possesses/’ he said to him¬ 
self, and when Danny shyly told the doctor 
about the rising sun tearing up the fog into 
pink ribbons that wound about the trees and 
floated away, the doctor felt that here was a 
rare little mind which could think for itself. 
Then the boy had courage; but the thing that 
really made Doctor Sylvester fond of Danny 
was that he kept himself so clean. 

Camp life made many of the caravaners care¬ 
less, and it pleased the doctor to see a clean 
face and a clean little pair of hands. This was 
one good reason why Danny was allowed to 
read the doctor’s books. In Doctor Sylvester’s 
wagon was built a row of bookshelves opposite 
his sleeping bunk. There were only the doctor 
and his driver in the wagon, and while there 
was not room for many books after the pro¬ 
visions and feed for the horses were placed, 
yet the doctor had taken great care to have 
the best. But it wasn’t only in the doctor’s 
books that Danny found things to think about. 
He had eyes that saw so many things every 
day that it often kept him awake at night think¬ 
ing about them all. And then he had a pair of 
ears that heard so many things, and after he 
got to know Uncle Barney there were words 


8 4 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


and names which stuck in his mind like a lot 
of question marks. One of these was Singa¬ 
pore, the place where Barney lost his leg. 

After the Civil War was over, Barney, just 
out of the army, had shipped as a sailor. For 
four years he had fought in many battles with 
never a scratch. Then he went to sea and in¬ 
side of a year lost his leg through a fall from 
aloft in a typhoon on the China Sea. 

The more Barney told Danny about Singa¬ 
pore, the more he wanted to know, and when 
the buzzards soared above the trees he felt 
sure that they came from Singapore, from the 
towers of the dead. A single word like this 
would set Danny searching through the doc¬ 
tor’s books for many days and, while he often 
failed to find what he was looking for, many 
other things were added to his little stock of 
knowledge. 

Danny didn’t know it, but he was getting a 
better education than most little boys of his 
age, Barney was taking care of his “arithmetic” 
and “jogerfy.” The woods and prairies and 
rivers were telling Danny many secrets which 
little town boys never knew. Doctor Sylvester 
knew all about plants and trees and he had 
Danny bring to his wagon, every day, any new 
flower or plant that he found on the way. 

Many times Dicko was pulled up short while 
Danny swung out of the saddle to pick a flower 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


85 


by the roadside. Then he would gallop on to 
the doctor’s wagon and place his prize in the 
doctor’s thin hand. In the evening camp, after 
he had done his chores, Danny would make his 
way to Doctor Sylvester’s wagon, climb in, 
snuggle up close to his friend, and hear the 
name of the flower or plant and the family it 
belonged to. 

Nebuchadnezzar objected to these visits to 
the doctor’s wagon because he had to sniff 
around and wait, wait, always wait for his 
master. The poor little dog lost his temper 
now and then, and if a dog from one of the 
neighboring wagons growled at him, and 
wasn’t very much too big for him, Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar’s hair would rise on his back from his 
head to his stump of a tail, his teeth would 
show, very sharp and white, and he would 
spring at the other dog’s throat. 

Then Danny would have to climb down out 
of the doctor’s wagon and give Nebuchadnez¬ 
zar a cuff on the ear and drag him home. 
Danny would feel very sorry when he had to 
cuff Nebuchadnezzar, but he had really no need 
to be, for the little dog only pretended to be 
sorry and hurt. Really he was the happiest 
dog alive—his master was paying more atten¬ 
tion to him. 

Two days were spent at the St. Joe camp 
waiting for a steamboat to ferry the horses and 



86 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


wagons across the muddy, yellow Missouri. 

Columbus Jones had not yet left the caravan 
to move on to his rich brother’s ranch. “Yes,” 
he would say, “it is true. My brother has met 
with reverses. The last flood on the big muddy 
undermined an’ cut off a thousand acres of his 
land and drownded six hundred of his horses 
and fifteen hundred young cattle. So now he’s 
in reduced circumstances and it looks as if 
I’d better go farther on. Y’ see I might buy a 
couple of thousand acres and get it all stocked 
up ’longside of the river, an’ all might go well, 
and then ag’in the banks might cave in or the 
river change its course, and I’d lose my fortune 
same as my poor brother. So he advised me 
not to risk it. As he said, it’s too big a gamble. 
So, Captain Haynes, I’m goin’ along with you 
till I see something sure and sartin.” 

This was a long speech for Columbus Jones 
and he was nearly out of breath when it was 
finished. It had taken him two days to think 
it up. He had felt that his brother had not 
borne out his descriptions, not even the later 
ones. The Joneses were a proud family, and it 
must not be supposed, even if one of them bore 
the marks of poverty just now, that they had 
never been rich. 

“Why don’t you buy a place back from the 
river, Columbus?” asked Barney, who had been 
listening to the long speech. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


87 


“No, Barney, Fm goin’ on to Colorado now. 
Out there I can buy a couple of mountains for 
what it would cost to buy a farm around here, 
and dig for gold. I’ve heard they’s mountains 
out there with gold veins ten feet wide, they’s 
riches out that way just waiting for men like 
me to put capital into.” 

“I’ve got a piece of property out there I’ll 
sell you for half a million, C’lumbus, but it’s 
got to be cash. You hear my offer, Captain 
Haynes. I’ll stand by it, no backing out; it’s 
made before witnesses.” 

Columbus Jones went back to his harness 
patching. Many long miles lay before him if 
he kept on all the way to Colorado. Most of 
the caravaners were going only as far as Kan- 
sas or Nebraska. Barney and Doctor Sylvester 
were the only ones who had started with the 
intention of crossing the desert, as it was 
called, that lay between the Missouri and the 
foothills of the Rocky Mountains. 

The word “Colorado” was beginning to do 
for Captain Haynes what “Singapore” had 
done for Danny. It interfered with his rest. 
Often in the night he would see great snow¬ 
capped mountains rising above the bunk in his 
wagon and himself on horseback always riding 
toward them; but no matter how fast he rode, 
he never quite reached them. 

They crossed the Missouri when all was 


88 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


ready. Columbus Jones had finished patching 
his harness. Barney’s new wooden leg had 
arrived, which made walking much easier for 
him. Danny had his baseball bat and ball, and 
had put in a week playing with the other small 
boys who came over to the camp. Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar had a new collar and Aunt Mary had 
made a pair of leather chaps for Danny, so that 
with his red-and-yellow bandana he looked 
quite like a small cowboy. Captain Haynes, as 
soon as all the wagons were across the river, 
told everyone in the caravan that there must 
be no straggling now. They were in territory 
where trouble sometimes came very quickly 
and they must be ready always to put up a 
united front. Bands of horse thieves much 
bolder than the ones on the Mississippi were 
known to hover about the old Santa Fe trail 
on which they were soon to enter. 

A caravan which went through a week or 
two before them lost not only horses, but two 
wagons loaded with provisions and a cook 
wagon with stove and kitchen ware. None of 
the lost property had been recovered, except 
the wreck of one of the wagons stuck in the 
mud of a small river which the thieves had 
crossed in the night. 

The road led now over the rolling swell of 
the prairie, a long pull for the horses, and then 
the brakes. Every now and then a muddy 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


89 


stream to cross, quicksands and deep mudholes 
had to be watched for. Captain Haynes was 
busy every minute and Danny and Dicko car¬ 
ried word back along the line of white-topped 
wagons when extra horses were wanted in 
front to help some unlucky caravaner whose 
wagon was stuck fast. As the sun dropped be¬ 
hind a bank of clouds at the end of the first 
day west of the Missouri, the captain called 
Danny to him and pointed to a spot on a low 
blufif overlooking a small river which flowed 
over a gravelly bed and was much clearer than 
most of the creeks and rivers they had crossed. 

“Danny,” he said, “I want you to ride over 
to the middle of that open space. Ride ’til I 
call to you to stop and then stand still. Don’t 
move until I get the caravan all settled for the 
night.” 

Danny didn’t know what the captain meant 
to do, but he had learned to obey orders, and 
in a moment he and Dicko, with Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar at his heels, were dashing over toward 
the blufif. “Halt!” shouted the captain, and 
Danny pulled up with a cowboy stop, Dicko 
digging his nimble forefeet into the soft 
ground. Danny whirled about and faced Cap¬ 
tain Haynes. “Hold it!” came the order quick 
and sharp. 

Very soon the first wagon came over a rise 
in the road. Captain Haynes rode to meet it. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


90 

“Now follow right in my tracks,” he called, 
and led the way, circling around Danny, keep¬ 
ing about an even distance from the boy and 
his pony all the way. “That ’ll do, Caleb, pull 
up now, wagon side to the boy; not too far. 
Hold it. That’s right.” And the captain 
dashed away to guide the next wagon around 
the circle. “Close up to the wagon ahead,” he 
called, and one after another the wagons came 
in and, “Close up, even distance from the boy,” 
was the order for each until the caravan formed 
a huge circle with Danny the pivot on which 
it swung. “Now I guess no rustlers will get 
your horses to-night,” said Captain Haynes to 
Barney and Aunt Mary. “Come, Danny; you 
and Mrs. Elmore won’t have to go gypsying 
again if I can help it.” 

The camn was now like a fort, a solid circle 
of wagons forming the walls. Camp fires were 
made, but firewood was scarce and only enough 
was used to cook dinner. All the horses were 
kept inside the wall of wagons, after being 
allowed to graze for an hour or two. Every 
precaution had now been taken to make the 
camp safe. Most of the caravaners loaded 
their guns and placed them where they could 
get at them easily. 

If any rustlers prowled about that night they 
saw a well-prepared camp out there on the 


DANNY’S PARTNER 91 

bluff, too tight and snug to be safely trifled 
with. 

Before it grew dark Barney and Danny and 
Columbus Jones took an empty wagon up the 
valley to forage for firewood. Half a mile from 
camp a fallen cottonwood which had been 
twisted off in a cyclone gave Barney a chance 
to show how well he could handle an ax. 
Danny meanwhile was busy picking up small 
branches and piling them into the wagon. This 
gave Columbus Jones an opportunity to rest 
until it should be time to load the large pieces. 
It also gave him time to talk about that Col¬ 
orado property of Barney’s. 

“I’ve an idee you’re holdin’ it too high, Bar¬ 
ney. Of course they may be ore on it an’ a 
half a million in that case is a mere nothing. 
Can’t you come down a few hundred thousand? 
I’d like to own one of them Colorado moun¬ 
tains. Sounds kind of large.” 

Barney was too busy to reply except to nod 
or shake his head. 

“Maybe we could interest folks back home. 
Tell ’em you’ve got a mountain or two for sale, 
with gold just oozin’ out of the cracks. Not 
goin’ too far; just a-travelin’ on the edge of 
the truth. I tell you, Barney, I have no use 
for a liar. My motto is tell the truth—as near 
as you can. But when you’re paintin’ a pitcher 
color it up a bit so’s it ’ll look nacheral.” 


92 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


While Columbus Jones was building' up a 
fine castle in Colorado, Barney was busy cut¬ 
ting down the remains of the old twisted cot¬ 
tonwood. It was getting dark and he called 
on Mr. Jones to get the wood aboard the wagon 
as fast as possible. Columbus Jones was a 
little short of breath when it came to real 
work, and Danny and Uncle Barney carried 
the greater part of the cordwood, while Colum¬ 
bus and Nebuchadnezzar made most of the 
noise. 

For some reason Nebuchadnezzar did not 
like Mr. Jones, and whenever that gentleman 
started to talk Nebuchadnezzar would begin 
to growl and whine. Perhaps the little dog, 
with that instinct about people that dogs have 
—perhaps he, too, had “no use for a liar.” 


CHAPTER IX 

E VERYBODY gathered round a single fire 
in the middle of the wagon fortress that 
night. Even Doctor Sylvester was able to 
leave his wagon. The outdoor air was helping 
him every day. 

“Danny, some day Ell get a saddle horse 
and we'll ride over the hills together. It is 
good to get out and be a real person again. 
We will be cowboys by the time we reach 
Colorado/’ 

“There goes that word Colorado again,” 
Captain Haynes was filling his pipe. “Law¬ 
rence, Kansas, is where this caravan disbands, 
but if Danny and Columbus Jones don’t stop 
talking about Colorado—and now the doctor’s 
begun—I don’t know but what I’ll find myself 
on the road there yet.” 

You’ll never regret it, ’specially if you come 
into our cor-por-ation, mine an’ Barney’s.” 
Columbus Jones hadn’t paid that half million 
to Barney for the Colorado mountain, but he 
already as good as owned it. “All we need 
is a little more capital to d’velop our mining 
interests. So many things ye got to figger on; 
lan’ slides, water in yer shafts, avalanches— 

93 


94 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


yes, we mining people have our troubles an’ 
our setbacks, but when we strike it—it’s mil¬ 
lions! Drat that dog! He always begins to 
growl soon as I start to talk/' 

“Perhaps he doubts your word, Columbus,” 
Captain Haynes’s face was in shadow. Mr. 
Jones couldn’t see whether he was smiling or 
not. 

“That’s one thing nobody ever did. My rep- 
atation in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, for 
truth an’ veracity was notorious.” 

“I don’t doubt it in the least.” Aunt Mary 
hadn’t taken any part in the talk by the fire 
before, and her quiet remark was too much 
for Captain Haynes and the doctor. Colum¬ 
bus Jones got up from his seat by the fire when 
they began to laugh. This was worse than 
Nebuchadnezzar’s bad manners. Mr. Jones 
put his thumb under his only suspender, or 
gallus, as he called it, and stalked away to his 
wagon. 

“Barney, you seem to have a new partner in 
your Colorado property; I suppose Columbus 
must have given you a note endorsed by his 
rich brother in St. Joe for his share in the 
‘cor-por-ation.’ Aren’t you going to let Cap¬ 
tain Haynes and me in?” 

“No, Doctor, you and the captain ’ll have to 
buy your own mountains. I’ve got to have a 
man for partner who’s used to handling mil- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


95 

lions. Columbus was telling me this morning 
that it 'd be foolish to do our banking in Den¬ 
ver. We want to open an account in Chicago, 
Columbus thinks ahead!" 

Danny couldn’t understand all this talk 
about Columbus Jones and money. He had 
never seen Mr. Jones handling any since they 
crossed the Mississippi, and besides, he and 
Nebuchadnezzar were sleepy. His head began 
to nod and Aunt Mary's knee made a con¬ 
venient pillow. When the camp fire died down 
Aunt Mary picked up the little curly-headed 
“Pedro" in her strong arms and carried him 
over to his wagon. 

Next morning Captain Haynes took the lead 
and headed his wagon train toward the south¬ 
west. There were the Kansas River and sev¬ 
eral small rivers to cross before they would 
arrive at Lawrence. The road they followed 
was hardly more than a trail. The main road 
west ran more to the north, toward the Platte 
River. 

As wagon after wagon pulled out of the 
great circle and strung out over the prairie, 
Danny thought it looked like a great snake 
uncoiling, and he told the doctor, when he 
went to his wagon on his pony, that “We're 
just a big snake, Doctor, and we'll bite the 
Indians and horse thieves. We're a big snake 
and we ain't afraid of anything." 


96 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


That morning 1 the wind began to rise, a very 
hot dry wind that raised a cloud of alkali dust. 
Harder and harder it blew all day and the 
poor horses suffered so much that at three 
o’clock Captain Haynes sent Danny back along 
the line to tell every one camp would be made 
early. By four o’clock a stream was reached. 
It was muddy, but, as Barney said, it was wet, 
and the horses and the people were ready to 
drink anything to cool their parched throats. 

Again, that afternoon, Danny and Dicko 
formed the pivot on which Captain Haynes 
swung his circling wagons. There were 
patches of something white on the ground 
where they camped. That, Doctor Sylvester 
told Danny, was alkali. Many of the cara- 
vaners were taken sick that night from drink¬ 
ing the alkali water. The doctor found that, 
as nearly every one else was sick, it was his 
turn now to get well and look after them. 
He had a medicine chest in his wagon, but he 
did not open it that night. 

“Wait till morning, then cook some fat pork 
and make your breakfast on it.” That was his 
prescription for everybody. 

It was hard work making people believe that 
fat pork was a medicine, but those who tried 
it found great relief from the griping pains 
made by the alkali water. “The fat takes up 
the alkali and neutralizes it,” explained the 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


97 


doctor. For two days the hot wind continued, 
and Captain Haynes at the end of the second 
day of blistering heat was compelled to call 
a halt on the banks of a river where a cotton¬ 
wood grove promised firewood for a few days’ 
camp. 

Danny and Dicko had stood the dust and 
wind better than almost any of the caravaners, 
and a three days’ rest meant a holiday. When 
all his chores were done the next morning, 
while it was still early, he and Uncle Barney 
got out some fishing tackle which was a part 
of the property Mr. Pardee had turned over to 
Mr. Barney away back in Ohio, and started 
off to a bend in the river above the camp. 

‘Til bring you a whole lot of fish, ‘Donna 
Andrea.’ ” Danny called over to the next 
wagon, “Great big ones.” 

“All right, Pedro, I haven’t got my little 
bfrd here, so I can’t tell you how many you 
will catch.” 

While Uncle Barney was looking for the 
best fishing hole just below the bend, Danny 
and Nebuchadnezzar went over to where a 
colony of prairie dogs had a village. Several 
of the little fellows were sitting up at the 
mouths of their holes, and Nebuchadnezzar 
made for the nearest one. The prairie dog sat 
quite still until the little dog had almost 
reached him and then he wasn’t there. Neb- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


98 

uchadnezzar was surprised, but made for the 
next one, barking very loud on the way. The 
second prairie dog did the same thing. Neb¬ 
uchadnezzar must have said to himself, ‘'Bet¬ 
ter luck next time,” or, “Never say die!” or 
whatever dogs say to themselves, for he barked 
louder and made after the third one. Just then 
Danny heard Barney calling and left Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar to his sport. 

Barney had his pipe lit and was very com¬ 
fortably seated at the foot of a big cotton¬ 
wood which afforded him both shade and a 
back rest. Danny took his pole and crept out 
to the end of a big log. The river was very 
deep out there and the water swirled around. 
Uncle Barney was pulling out “bullheads” one 
after another, but Danny caught only a little 
sunfish and began to think he had picked out 
a poor place to fish, when all at once he felt 
a tremendous pull on his line. 

“Hold him, Danny!” called Barney. “You've 
got a big one or else a mud turtle—hold!” 

Danny was holding his fish and was being 
pulled farther out on the log to where it began 
to caper and dance up and down. Still Danny 
held on, and then the fish slowed for an instant 
and made a rush downstream. This threw 
Danny off his balance and into the river he 
went with a splash. Only a mass of bubbles 
showed where the boy had disappeared. It 



DANNY’S PARTNER 


99 


seemed a full minute before he came up sput¬ 
tering. To Barney’s great relief, Danny was 
swimming—“dog fashion,” to be sure—but 
able to keep on the surface. 

“I’ve got him, Uncle Barney!” gurgled 
Danny, half choked with the water he had 
swallowed. 

The great fish suddenly jumped out of the 
water and Danny almost let go of the pole. 
The fish was a giant “channel cat,” almost as 
big as the boy. 

“Try and get him down to the riffle, Danny, 
and I’ll gaff him with my knife!” 

Barney was hobbling down the bank as fast 
as he could go on one good leg and a wooden 
one, and when Danny, by good luck, got the 
fish into the shallow water, Barney waded in 
and struck him first with the sharp steel pin 
that was set in the end of his wooden leg, and 
then finished him with his knife. Neither 
Danny nor Barney had ever seen a great 
“channel cat” before. They dragged him 
ashore and it was all Danny could do to lift 
him. They built a great fire to dry Danny’s 
clothes, and Barney found a rough piece of 
board, or puncheon, split open several of the 
smaller fish, secured them to the puncheon 
with slivers of wood, and in a little while 
Danny sat like a naked savage eating planked 
fish. 


IOO 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“I think I hear Nebuchadnezzar barking. 
Sounds like he is a good way off. It’s a wonder 
he doesn’t come around. He knows meal times 
as well as folks do. I brought a bone in my 
pocket ’specially for that dog.” 

Danny’s clothes took a good while to dry. 
The hot wind had died down and so had the 
fire. Danny was down in the shallows, catch¬ 
ing crawfish for bait, and Barney kept on fish¬ 
ing and caught several beautiful mullet and a 
red horse. As it drew toward sunset Danny 
got back into his clothes. They cut a pole 
and hung the big channel cat about one third 
of the way from one end of the stick, and 
strung the smaller fish along. With Barney 
upholding the short end and Danny the long, 
they started back to camp, very proud of their 
day’s catch. 

“Uncle Barney, I think I can hear Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar again. Sounds like he’s over at the 
prairie-dog village where we were this morn¬ 
ing. Let’s go ’round that way and see if he’s 
there.” 

When they came in sight of the village 
nearly every prairie dog was sitting outside 
his little dugout. Nebuchadnezzar, barking 
very faintly, and scarcely able to move, was 
dragging himself from one prairie-dog hole to 
another just in time to see its owner dive down 
like a jack-in-the-box when he came too near. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


IOI 


All day long the game little dog had kept up 
his hopeless quest. He didn’t know that a 
prairie dog could often beat a gun, not to speak 
of a poor silly little dog. 

Perhaps Nebuchadnezzar was glad at last of 
an excuse to quit, for at Danny’s call he feebly 
wagged his tail and crawled back panting from 
the chase. 

That night Aunt Mary cooked the giant 
channel cat and the many small fishes at the 

o' 

camp fire. Everybody was invited and Aunt 
Mary said that her “Pedro” was as good at 
catching fish as he was at catching horses. 
“He caught horses by letting them loose and 
fish by holding on to them,” she said. 

The next day was cooler and the sky clouded 
over. The captain concluded it would be bet¬ 
ter to push on while the good weather lasted. 
There were several rivers to be crossed, 
swamps to avoid, and hot weather for weeks 
at a time to be expected. The caravan was 
so large and precautions so well taken that in 
due time it arrived, with few mishaps, at the 
Kansas River, a few miles below Lawrence, 
and crossing the river on a scow ferry took 
nearly a day. A good many of the caravaners 
were suffering from fever and ague and other 
ailments, but all who had left the Eastern 
states months before were alive. This was a 
good record. Everyone who had a flag hung it 


io2 DANNY’S PARTNER 

out from his wagon as they drove into Law¬ 
rence. 

Captain Haynes rode at the head of the 
caravan, with Danny and Dicko at his side. 
Some of the caravaners who had spare saddle 
horses sometimes acted as his assistants and 
rode back and forth along the line, keeping 
the caravan moving smoothly. 

The line of march was through the main 
street of the town and out to an open lot on 
the outskirts. All the little boys in Lawrence 
followed Danny and Dicko, and their eyes 
grew very big when he and Captain Haynes 
rode out to the open lot and, at the Captain’s 
sharp order, Danny dashed out, at full gallop, 
to the middle of the field, and pulling up Dicko 
and turning about, stood still as a statue while 
the captain, with all the wagons following 
close after him, circled about Danny one after 
the other until the corral was complete. Then 
Danny and Dicko dashed away to the wagon 
of Uncle Barney. 

It was all done so quickly and so neatly that 
the townspeople who had followed the caravan 
to the outskirts raised a feeble cheer. In those 
days on the frontier there wasn’t much to cheer 
about. Life was one hardship after another. 
People hadn’t got used to the country and 
comforts were few. It wasn’t their home yet 


DANNY’S PARTNER 103 

—the people, most of them, were either just 
coming or just going. 

Captain Haynes’s work was over. In a 
day or two the caravan would disband. Fam¬ 
ilies who were to take up certain lands close 
together would travel in company, others 
would go off across the prairies by themselves, 
never to return or to meet their old neighbors 
again. It was a time of leave-takings. 


i 


CHAPTER X 

A UNT Mary had been undecided whether 
to keep on to the west or to join a 
family who were going to the south. When 
she looked at Danny, ready to ride away— 
her brave little “Pedro”—going to the great 
mountains, it was like losing her own little boy 
over again. 

Captain Haynes, too, was dreaming of that 
word “Colorado.” Two days after they made 
camp at Lawrence, the captain met Aunt Mary 
on the street, where she was doing a little 
shopping, buying a few skeins of blue and red 
yarn. As they stood talking on the wooden 
sidewalk, Danny came cantering by on Dicko. 
He looked very happy and gay; his red-and- 
yellow bandana was hung backward around his 
neck. That was the way the cowboys about 
Lawrence wore theirs and Danny quickly 
caught the style. He had a new hat with a 
wider brim than his old one. He was smiling 
at some thought passing in his young head. 
Suddenly he saw Aunt Mary. She had turned 
from Captain Haynes that he might not see 
the tears which came to eyes, usually so stern 

104 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


105 

and gray. Her little boy was going to ride 
away to the west. Although the Captain did 
not see those unshed tears, Danny saw the sad 
look in Aunt Mary's face and pulled up along¬ 
side the walk. 

“What's the matter, Aunt Mary? . . . Yes, 
there is something; I know when you look 
sad like that. It's like I feel when I think of 
the poorhouse before Uncle Barney came 
there." 

Aunt Mary didn't answer. Instead, she 
turned to the captain. “Captain Haynes"— 
very hard and high her voice was—“Captain 
Haynes, are you going on to Colorado?" 

The captain looked at Danny and then Aunt 
Mary. He knew something of her history and 
guessed more. “I haven't quite made up my 
mind," he answered. 

“Well, I have, Captain. I’m going!" She 
leaned over to Danny and kissed his cheek, 
while a tear fell on his red-and-yellow ban¬ 
dana. 

All that day there were leave-takings as 
wagon after wagon pulled out from camp. 
Columbus Jones wished them all well if they 
were determined to settle in Kansas, but he 
had spent the day before preparing a paper— 
a “perspectus," he called it—of his great Col¬ 
orado “cor-por-ation." At the top of his paper 


io6 DANNY’S PARTNER 

he had drawn a crude outline of a mountain 
and beside it was a bag of gold with a dollar 
mark on it. The bag was just the size of the 
mountain. 

“This is jest the perspectus in the rough, 
gentlemen.” To anyone who had time to listen 
he explained his great scheme to start a min¬ 
ing town in Colorado. “Soon as I get time I 
am goin’ to write to New York to the Ameri¬ 
can Bank Note Co. and have this perspectus 
ingraved on steel, but you kin see what it is. 
Of course we got to give half a million dollars 
to Barney before we get a clear title, but what’s 
half a million? Shucks! We’ll take that out 
and pay him off in six months.” 

Nebuchadnezzar was listening to Columbus, 
and followed him from wagon to wagon, 
growling and bristling. This annoyed Mr. 
Jones, but Nebuchadnezzar was a friend of the 
present owner of the golden mountain and a 
kick at the little dog might knock over the 
whole great castle in Colorado. 

Evening was closing in, and all the wagons 
had departed except Doctor Sylvester’s, Bar¬ 
ney’s, Aunt Mary’s, and Captain Haynes’s. To¬ 
morrow Barney, the doctor, and Aunt Mary 
were to start westward at noon. Aunt Mary 
invited them all to have their evening meal 
with her, but first she put a skillet on the fire 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


107 


and cooked a batch of doughnuts to have at 
noon next day. Danny always helped at mak¬ 
ing doughnuts. He had to taste the first one 
or two to see if Aunt Mary remembered how 
to make them. 

It might be a long time before Aunt Mary 
would have time or place to cook a big dinner 
again. An abandoned wagon bed turned up¬ 
side down made a table, and out of a big chest 
in her own wagon she brought a fine white 
linen cloth. Danny couldn’t quite understand 
how a pattern of white ferns could show on a 
white cloth: but there they were, like the frost 
pictures on a windowpane. Silver spoons and 
knives there were, too, and a silver dish, in the 
middle of the table. 

A deep-dish meat pie, sweet potatoes, glasses 
of jelly and jam put up in Pennsylvania, coffee, 
and shelled hickory nuts made up the dinner. 
When it was over and while Danny and Aunt 
Mary cleared the table and heated water to 
wash the dishes, Captain Haynes walked up 
and down, out to the banks of the river and 
back to the fire. Columbus Jones was talking 
about his great idea to the doctor and Barney, 
who were gradually going to sleep. Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar was too busy burying bones to 
growl! A beautiful evening star hung in the 
western sky. It seemed to the captain, as he 


108 DANNY’S PARTNER 

stood on the river bank, to beckon him on 
toward it. Aunt Mary had washed and wrung 
out the dishcloth and Danny was sitting close 
to Uncle Barney by the fire when the captain 
came back from the river bank at last. 

“Barney,” he said, “what time do you start 
to-morrow ?” 

“At noon, Captain.” 

“I shall be ready then. Good night.” And 
Captain Haynes walked quickly away to his 
wagon. 

Columbus Jones rose up and with his thumb 
under his solitary suspender raised his free 
hand with a wide sweep toward the west. 
“Gentleman, he's good for a third interest at 
least! See, Barney, what it is to have me, 
Columbus Jones, to get the right people in this 
thing?” 

“All right, Columbus, but remember you 
haven't paid in that half a million yet. Cash, 
Columbus, cash, you know.” 

Mr. Jones was going to explain how pay¬ 
ment was to be made, but Nebuchadnezzar had 
buried all the bones he could find by this time 
and now set up a dismal howl which drowned 
his voice. 

Doctor Sylvester and Barney, Aunt Mary 
and Danny, were all delighted to think that 
the captain was to go on with them. All felt 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


109 


more secure with him to share the dangers 
of a journey across the desert. 

‘Til sleep better/’ Barney said. 

Next morning Aunt Mary had a business 
idea, not so big as Columbus Jones’s “cor-por- 
ation,” but it was something that could be 
started that day. “Supposing I take charge 
of the meals from now on. Mine can be the 
cook wagon. You men can take care of my 
horses and get wood for my fire, and if Danny 
will help make doughnuts days when we are 
in camp long enough I think we will all be 
better off and our food ’ll last out better.” 

It didn’t take long for the doctor and Barney 
and Captain Haynes to accept this business 
proposition, and Columbus Jones said it might 
be the beginning of a palace hotel in his mining 
town when he got it going. Danny liked the 
doughnut idea, but it didn’t make very much 
difference to him. Aunt Mary was always giv¬ 
ing him things to eat, anyway. 

Promptly at noon the little caravan broke 
camp and started on its way toward the west. 
A week’s journey would bring them to the 
eastern edge of what was called the Great 
American Desert. By following the old Santa 
Fe Trail they would strike the Arkansas River 
and always have water, but there would be 
long stretches where they must leave the river 
or else double the length of their journey. 


IIO DANNY’S PARTNER 

Captain Haynes had bought an extra freight 
wagon of one of the caravaners who was going 
to locate in Lawrence, and this was empty 
when they started. To this he hitched his spare 
team of horses, and before noon on the day 
they started he walked down street, looking 
carefully at all the young men he met on the 
sidewalks. He was looking for a man to drive 
that freight wagon. The captain knew that 
he must make no mistake in his man, and while 
there were many young fellows on the street 
out of work and ready for any adventure, he 
saw no one for some time who looked just the 
right kind of man to cross the desert with. 

While he stood thinking what he should do, 
a mover’s wagon, covered with dust, drove up 
the street and stopped in front of the hotel. 
On the driver’s seat was an old man with a 
kindly face, and beside him a young colored 
man. As they came to a halt the young negro 
climbed down off the seat. 

“I sure is much obliged to you, sah, for de 
lif’. Dem las’ few miles walkin’ in de sand 
’mos’ use’ me up. Oh yes, I find work hyar!” 
And he grinned as cheerfully as though the 
town of Lawrence was already his. 

It was that grin which decided the captain 
to call him over to the sidewalk. “Can you 
drive a team, boy?” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


hi 


“I shu-lv can, boss. I was bo’n on Colonel 
Hardlow’s stock farm, suh, befo’ de wah! Po’ 
old colonel got no hosses now, but I could 
drive a team when I was jes’ a pickanniny.” 

“What are you doing out here?” The cap¬ 
tain was only asking questions while he looked 
the boy over. 

“Dar wasn’t any money back dar for de 
white folks, so I said to mahse’f, Bonaparte, 
if de white folks have nothin’, what in de wo’ld 
has de niggers got ’round here? Den I came 
upriver as a deck han’ on a steamboat, an’ res’ 
of de way I walked till dat old preacher in de 
wagon give me a lif’.’ 

“How would you like to go out to Colorado 
with me? I want a boy to drive a team and do 
chores. The Indians may get you, or the horse 
rustlers, or you may get lost on the desert, but 
I take the same chances.” 

Bonaparte was studying the captain while 
the captain studied him, and it took him but a 
moment to decide that here was a man to fol¬ 
low no matter where he led. “I’se yo’ man,” 
was all he said. 

Bonaparte had no baggage to hamper him 
and the captain took him to a store and bought 
him a change of clothing. When the caravan 
started at noon, Bonaparte, in a new flannel 
shirt and a flaming bandana, cracked a black- 


112 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


snake whip and his white teeth gleamed in a 
smile that crossed his face like the new moon 
on a darkened sky. 

Columbus Jones made a small investment 
at the general store in Lawrence before the 
little caravan started. It was the second time 
on the trip that Danny had seen him pay out 
money. Mr. Jones felt that some one must 
write a history of this great enterprise, and 
who could do it so well as he? A large book 
would be needed and the storekeeper sold him 
an old ledger but half filled with accounts 
which a former owner had left when he went 
out of business. Mr. Jones also bought a bottle 
of ink, and a goose that wandered across the 
camp ground furnished him with a quill pen. 

The first thing in writing a history of the 
caravan was to put down the names of all the 
travelers. This Mr. Jones did the night be¬ 
fore the start, adding Bonaparte’s the next day. 
Leaving out the item at the top of the page, 
“John Smith, Debtor; i Bag Flour $1.75 
(charged profit and loss),” Columbus Jones’s 
“History” read as follows: 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


113 


Histery of a Expedishen 
to the Mountins of Colorado 
to establish 
a 

ELDORADER. 

By Columbus Jones. 

The Company 

Captain John Elkhorn Haynes, late Commander Bucks 
Co. Caravan. 

Mr. Joel Barney, Capitalist, Soldier and Sailor. 

Dr. E. Andrew Sylvester, Eminent Phisycian. 

Mrs. Mary Elmore (future) Propr. Hotel Grand. 
Master Daniel, Adopted Son and Heir of Joel Barney, 
Capitalist. 

Columbus Jones, Miner and Capitalist. 

Nicholas Binker ( Drivers for Dr. Sylvester and Capt. 
Denis Durgan J Haynes. 

Bonaparte, Negro freight driver. 

THE CARYVAN 

2 Conestoga wagons. 

3 Straight-box wagons. 

1 Freight (wood) wagons. 

19 Draft horses. 

1 Saddle horse. 

1 Pony. 

2 Dogs. 

1 Small mongrel (a nuisance). 

Tune 15th, 1866, Left Lawrence, Kansas, at noon, 
bound for Colorado. 





CHAPTER XI 




“M°W, Bonaparte ,, —Captain Haynes had 
ridden back to the empty freight wagon, 
which brought up the rear—“look out for any 
wood you can see on the way and load it on 
your wagon. Call out to the wagon ahead 
when you stop, for we must all keep together. 
Never let the wagon ahead out of your sight, 
no matter what happens. There’s more danger 
from horse rustlers hereabout than when we 
get out on the desert. Did you ever use a 
gun?” 

“Marse Eugene Hardlow use’ taken me up 
de Red River deer shootin’. I know how to 
hanT ol’ Mister Rifle, and take care of him, 
too.” 

The captain rode away mighty well pleased. 
“The boy’s better than I thought,” he told the 
doctor when they made camp that night. 

Bonaparte had picked up quite a respectable 

load of wood, and as the doctor and the captain 

and Barney disposed the wagons about with 

Aunt Mary’s in the center, the young darky 

was rubbing up the tin plates, singing an old 

plantation song, and only stopping to laugh 

when Nebuchadnezzar sat up and begged as 

114 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


ii 5 

soon as he saw Aunt Mary open the “grub 
box.” 

After dinner Bonaparte and Danny helped 
wash the dishes, and Aunt Mary said, “’Most 
anybody’ll help you cook, but they kind of for¬ 
get you when it comes to cleaning up.” Bona¬ 
parte didn’t know what a valuable friend he 
made that night. Before they turned in, Cap¬ 
tain Haynes called every one together. From 
a long box in his wagon he took two carbines; 
one he gave to Aunt Mary, as she had only 
her old-fashioned horse pistol, and the other to 
Bonaparte. He also gave to each of them an 
ammunition belt and cartridges. 

“I used to shoot squirrels in Pennsylvania 
with a muzzle loader, but I guess I can use this 
weapon with a little practise.” Aunt Mary 
drew the gun to her strong shoulder. 

“I’s show yo’, Mis’ Elmore, how yo’ break 
him; dat’s all yo’ need. Yo’ pulls up er gun 
lak Marse Eugene.” 

“Sleep close to your rifles, everybody. We’re 
all well armed and shouldn’t be afraid of any¬ 
body.” 

Columbus Jones made a note of this, the first 
speech of the captain, for his history. 

Danny dreamed of horse rustlers and In¬ 
dians that night, but the stars shone calm and 
brilliant. Fleecy white clouds sailed across the 


n6 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


moon, and only the occasional wailing bark of 
a coyote broke the stillness of the night. 

For more than a week they traveled to the 
southwest; sometimes for a whole day the road 
left the river valleys, and on those days they 
suffered much from thirst. Not a spring nor a 
brook was to be found. Grass became more 
and more scarce. It grew in bunches only. 
Sagebrush began to appear, and the great 
skulls of buffalo with their short curved horns 
were to be seen in the gullies. Once Danny 
saw a small herd of the great animals grazing 
on a rising ground a mile or two ahead, but the 
wind was toward them and with a toss of their 
shaggy heads they disappeared into the valley 
beyond. 

Captain Haynes had discovered, the fourth 
day out, that another small caravan was fol¬ 
lowing a few miles behind them. This he could 
not quite understand, because no other group 
of caravaners had outfitted for the long journey 
across the desert while they were in camp at 
Lawrence. It was while riding back to a fork 
in the trail, to see if he had taken the right road, 
that he discovered the tops of two wagons com¬ 
ing west. 

Turning quickly off the road, Captain 
Haynes rode over into a clump of bushes, 
where he could watch the newcomers pass 
without being seen. They were certainly not 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


ii 7 

the sort of people Captain Haynes would like 
for a part of his caravan. Their wagons were 
dirty, and the tops were of a dark material and 
very ragged and out of shape. But they had 
fine horses. Besides the wagon teams were 
three or four fine saddle horses. A hide¬ 
ous old woman with a corncob pipe in her 
mouth drove the forward wagon, and a wiry 
old man with mustache and beard, blackened 
and out of keeping with his grizzled hair, rode 
on horseback beside her; two younger men 
completed the party. They were of a type, the 
captain thought, who were best many miles 
distant from his own party. Making a wide 
detour, he rode back to the main trail again, 
and, after a little talk with Barney and the doc¬ 
tor, kept the caravan on the road until nearly 
midnight. They had now reached the Arkan¬ 
sas River, and for two days more the horses 
were urged on at a rapid gait. Captain Haynes 
felt that they had put a good many miles 
between themselves and the people behind 
them. What was his surprise, then, when they 
had pulled off the road a few hundred yards 
and were making camp under a lone cotton¬ 
wood by the river, to see the two wagons with 
the crazy tops come rambling along the dusty 
road, and without a word except a gruff, 
“Evenin', Squire," from the old man with the 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


118 

blackened beard to the captain, the party 
passed along and were soon out of sight. 

“Not very sociable, them folks. They seem 
to be in a big hurry. I tell you”—and Columbus 
Jones put his thumb under his lone suspender— 
“them fellers are goin’ to try an’ get ahead of 
us to the mines! Captain Haynes, it’s a race 
for gold!” And Columbus went to his wagon 
and got out his “History.” Here were “facks,” 
he said which must be put down. 

But Captain Haynes and Barney and Doctor 
Sylvester felt rather relieved. 

“Let ’em go on,” said Barney. “We’re in 
no hurry.” 

“The faster they go the better I’ll like it,” 
was the captain’s comment. “Aunt Mary, there 
was a ‘lady’ with them; maybe we ought to 
have asked them to dinner.” 

Aunt Mary only smiled, but Bonaparte 
looked disgusted. “Miss Elmore never cook 
dinner fo’ dem poo’ white trash.” 

“I think we had better camp here for a couple 
of days, rest up our horses, and maybe have a 
little hunt,” said the captain. 

Doctor Sylvester looked interested. “I’ve 
a notion I am about to become a useful citizen 
and not a poor invalid any longer. We must 
get Mrs. Elmore some fresh meat.” 

Early in the morning of the second day in 
camp, Barney, the doctor, the two drivers, 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


119 

Nicholas and Denis, and Captain Haynes 
mounted their horses and started on a hunt. 
Signs of buffalo were to be seen now in all 
directions and everyone was getting a little 
tired of salt pork. Columbus Jones, Aunt Mary, 
Bonaparte, and Danny were to guard the camp 
and look after the horses. 

“Whatever you do, don’t go a foot out of 
camp without your guns. If trouble comes in 
this country it comes all at once. The main 
thing is to look out for the horses. Our lives 
depend upon them. Now, Bonaparte, don’t 
forget; keep where you can see the horses and 
carry your gun.” This was the last word 
Danny heard the captain say, and for many a 
long weary day he remembered it. 

“Wonder if we couldn’t ketch er ol’ catfish, 
Danny! I’s heard you done pull out one big as 
yo’se’f. We can watch ’em horses while we’re 
a-fishin’ an’ Mis’ Elmore ’ll make us a fish 
chowdah. Mm! fish chowdah !” 

This was right after breakfast. Bonaparte 
got out his rifle and Aunt Mary’s, carefully 
cleaning them both while Danny dug bait. 

“Set my gun against the washtub there and 
don’t go above the bend. Keep your eye on 
the horses on that side and Mr. Jones and I 
will watch from this side.” 

By noon Danny and Bonaparte had a fine 
mess of fish. 


120 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“The men ’ll all be hungry when they come 
in. Bring me in a few more this afternoon and 
you shall have your chowder.” Aunt Mary 
believed in having plenty. 

At about four o’clock the fish were biting 
again and Bonaparte could almost see that fish 
chowder. Resting his gun against a tree, he 
climbed out on a slippery log to make a cast 
in deep water. A big mud turtle slipped down 
into the water. It was very quiet and Bona¬ 
parte felt there must be many big fish waiting 
down below, when out of the stillness rang 
three shots from beyond the camp, followed 
by shouts and yells. Bonaparte made a wild 
scramble back toward the bank, but slipped, in 
his haste, and down he went in the swirling 
water. 

Aunt Mary had almost finished her wash. 
The old bandana she had worn about her neck 
as Donna Andrea was still in the tub. As she 
stooped to wring it out something like a bee 
sung by her head, and at the same time a hole 
through which the water spurted appeared in 
her tub. Two reports, then another, rang in 
her ears. 

Fierce yells told her that the horses were 
being stampeded. At the other end of the 
camp, Columbus Jones lay crumpled up against 
his wagon wheel, blood trickling down the side 
of his face, and between her and the river bank 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


121 


where Danny and Bonaparte were fishing’, 
frightened animals were being driven by three 
horsemen, who were turning them up the river. 

Danny had dropped his fishing pole and was 
running right toward the horse thieves. Aunt 
Mary saw one of them aim his gun at the little 
fellow, who had just grasped Dicko’s thick 
mane and swung himself on his back as the 
frightened pony slackened speed at sight of his 
young master. 

Steady and quick, Aunt Mary took a sure 
aim at the thief, but Danny was now in line 
directly beyond him and she dared not fire. 

Then she saw Bonaparte, dripping from his 
plunge in the river, slip through the bushes, 
trying to recover the rifle he had so foolishly 
left leaning up against a tree. He had it in his 
hand, was raising it to his shoulder, when a 
blow on the head from the butt of a sawed-off 
gun dropped him and his rifle. 

“Save that darky. We’ll want him to take 
care of the horses!” shouted the leader, and in 
a moment, poor Bonaparte, more dead than 
alive, was swung across one of the horses in 
front of the rider, his rifle taken by the 
third horseman, and away flew thieves and 
stampeded horses up the river. 

Meantime Aunt Mary with great strides was 
following, trying to get a shot at the raiders 
without endangering Danny or the young ne- 


122 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


gro. At last one of the younger men separated 
a little from the others and swerved in his 
saddle as a shot struck him in the thigh. He 
had but just got his balance when his horse 
plunged forward with a bullet in its brain. 

Bonaparte had now come to and, with his 
hands securely tied behind his back, was made 
to stand between the raiders and Aunt Mary 
while they dragged their man away from the 
fallen horse and placed him, swearing and 
groaning, on the horse behind the older man, 
his horse being the heaviest. A bullet now and 
then was being sent at the sturdy woman who 
stood rifle at shoulder ready to take the first 
safe shot at the three. All this time she could 
see little Danny and Dicko riding madly and 
circling to the left. 

'‘If I can just keep them five minutes he’ll 
get clear,” Aunt Mary was saying to herself. 
“Better leave your wounded man here!” she 
shouted, ‘Til look after him.” 

“No, thank ye, ma’am! They’s too many 
ropes laying ’round loose in your camp. Guess 
he’d rather go with us. Much obliged for the 
nigger. So long, lady!” 

When they were a hundred yards away she 
saw the younger man start out after Danny. 

“Git him!” called the leader. “He’ll do to 
help the old woman wash the dishes.” 

Steadily Aunt Mary sent half a dozen bullets 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


123 


after the rider, but the distance was too great 
for a flying target and he disappeared over the 
bluff. It was not until then that she thought 
of Columbus Jones lying there by his wagon, 
perhaps dead. 

Danny’s pony was swift and the little fellow 
was smart enough to make for the first gully, 
or arroyo, as they were called out there. 

“He’ll come in after dark.” 

Poor Columbus was breathing heavily when 
Aunt Mary reached him. He was all doubled 
up just as he fell, and her first task was to lay 
him out on his back so that he could breathe 
more freely. His wound was not serious. The 
bullet had struck his head a glancing blow. It 
had put him to sleep, and now he awoke with 
no idea of what had happened except that he 
had fallen down and had wakened with a bad 
headache. He was surprised at the blood on 
Aunt Mary’s handkerchief. 

“What—what hit me, I wonder, Mis’ El¬ 
more? It must have been a dead branch fell 
out of the cottonwood.” 

“No, man, it’s a bullet wound. The gang 
that passed us two days ago came back and 
fired at us both and run off the stock, and 
they’ve got Bonaparte with ’em, and Danny’s 
out on the prairie somewhere with one of ’em 
chasing after him. But I know Danny ’ll get 


124 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


away. He’ll hide in the tall sunflowers or in 
a deep gully till dark.” 

While Aunt Mary was talking she was wash¬ 
ing Columbus’s wound, and had it bandaged 
up and a blanket round him when the faint 
sound of hoofs came to her ear. In a moment 
she had her rifle in hand and stepped out clear 
of the wagons. It was getting dusk. 

“Whoopee! Hooray!” came out of a line of 
horsemen nearing camp at a gallop. 

She lowered her rifle, leaned back against 
the big cotton wood, and the tears streamed 
down her cheeks. The captain was the first to 
ride up. 

“We’ve brought the— Why, Mrs. Elmore, 
what is it—what’s happened?” 

“Horse thieves! They’ve got all the horses 
and Bonaparte—and—and Danny’s out on the 
prairie and one of ’em after him!” 

By this time the entire party was gathered 
about Aunt Mary, and what they hadn’t heard 
in full they saw in her face and in the captain’s. 

“Danny’s on Dicko, circlin’ ’round to the 
south, one of them chasin’ after him. He had a 
good start if he only thinks to hide in a gully 
till dark. Bonaparte’s tied and can’t get away. 
They went up the river. Columbus Jones is 
wounded on the head. I’ve got coffee on the 
fire. Moon ’ll be up in a couple of hours. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


125 


We’ve got to get out of here and after ’em 
before that. If the doctor ’ll stay with C’lum- 
bus and look after Danny when he comes in, 
I’ll go after the rustlers. For if they’ve got 
Danny we’ll find him at their camp. There’s 
only two fightin’ men in their gang now, for I 
put a ball through the leg of one of ’em.” 

In less than an hour, only giving the horses 
time for a little food, the entire party, except 
Doctor Sylvester and Columbus Jones, were 
off, taking the western road, which led along 
the south bank of the river for many miles. 

“It’s not likely that they will attempt to ford 
the river with all those horses; besides, their 
wagons are certainly on this side.” 

All night long they traveled. When the 
moon came up it was almost as light as day, and 
when the sun rose they were forty miles from 
camp. But no sign had they seen of the thieves. 

It was useless to try to track them, for a 
great herd of buffalo had crossed the road 
going north, just after they left the camp, and 
only their hoofmarks could be seen for nearly 
a mile. Until ten o’clock that day they searched 
every arroyo, every thicket by the river for 
miles around, but got no clew to the rustlers. 
At last Captain Haynes reluctantly gave the 
word to turn back to camp. It was hard for 
Barney and Aunt Mary to obey. They could 


126 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


only hope that Danny had come in safe long 
before this. Toward sundown they were riding 
slowly along when Nicholas, who had very 
sharp eyes, touched Aunt Mary on the arm. 

“Do you see some critters moving west on 
that bluff over to the south, Mrs. Elmore ?” 

“It isn’t buffaloes, Nicholas; I can see that 
much. The last one looks like a buffalo, and 
that’s what a man on horseback looks like at a 
long distance, I’ve heard said. See! They’re 
gettin’ down behind the bluff. They’ve seen 
us. Captain! Yonder’s a bunch of horses to 
the south!” 

That was enough. The party split in two 
and the two drivers went southwest under the 
captain, Barney and Mrs. Elmore going south¬ 
east. 

Their horses were tired, but something of 
the spirit of the chase livened them up and 
they raced across the prairie at a sharp canter. 
The captain had the best horses and rounded 
the bluff to the westward in time to see a dozen 
horses driven down into the dry bed of a stream 
which arose back toward the east. 

The man in the saddle evidently saw the cap¬ 
tain’s party in hot pursuit and was doubling 
back, hoping to escape. 

“There’s Columbus Jones’s old roan, shore 
as you’re born,” said Nicholas, and with the 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


127 


captain and Denis he dashed after the horses. 
Before the edge of the deep gulch was reached 
they could hear the horses clattering up the 
rocky dry bed of the stream. 

Down they went after them and for a quar¬ 
ter of a mile it was a race. Then all at once 
the hoofbeats ahead of them ceased. Rounding 
a bend in the river bed, they saw the old roan 
and the other horses huddled at the foot of a 
wall of shelving rock that stood ten feet high 
across the gulch. Scrambling up the side bank 
on his horse was the lone horse thief. Only the 
trees between him and the guns of his pursuers 
saved him. Perhaps running the horses up 
into that pocket was the luckiest thing that 
ever hapened to the horse thief, for, rifles in 
hand, Barney and Aunt Mary came clattering 
down the stream five minutes after he escaped 
up the side. It was getting toward night and 
the only thing to do was to get the horses back 
to camp. They had been driven hard and far. 
Captain Haynes wisely determined to let them 
take their time. But what puzzled everyone 
was whether the rustler who had just escaped 
was driving the horses to his camp or away 
from it when they sighted him on the bluff. If 
away from it, then the thieves were heading 
back toward the Missouri border. 

Barney and Aunt Mary believed that this 
was what had happened and rode on ahead all 


128 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


night, hoping to find Danny in camp. At any 
rate, they would be going in the right direction. 
It never occurred to either of them that days— 
perhaps months—might elapse before they 
would see the little lad who had become as dear 
to them as though he were their own. 


CHAPTER XII 


"IX/HEN Danny glanced over his shoulder 
* * and saw one of the thieves fall he thought 
now was his chance to circle 'round and get 
back to Aunt Mary. He had no saddle or 
bridle, only a rope halter, but Dicko knew what 
to do about as well as Danny. He had almost 
reached a patch of wild sunflowers and a clump 
of bushes before he looked back again, but 
when he did, there was one of the raiders on 
a swift horse right behind him. 

Danny remembered when he was “Pedro" 
the gypsy, and dug his heels into Dicko's sides, 
hoping again to escape. A deep gulch was 
directly in front of him, but Dicko never hesi¬ 
tated. Down the little pony slid on his 
haunches, and away he flew up the dry gully 
and out of it again, always swinging round 
toward the camp. 

Many were the dry arroyos Danny crossed, 
and these were all that kept the fast horse 
from catching the pony in the first two miles. 
Then, unluckily for poor Danny, came an open 
stretch of prairie beyond which he could just 
see the white covers of the wagons. Halfway 
across, he heard the swish of a lariat and saw 

139 


130 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


it circle over Dicko’s head. In a second he was 
flying through the air and rolling unhurt on 
the ground. 

Danny hadn’t had time to get frightened— 
he was only angry; and he was up on his feet 
in a minute, running back to the defense of 
Dicko. “Stop choking my horse!” he shouted 
at the raider, who was jerking the poor pony 
about. 

“Jest you quiet down, you young wild cat,” 
came the cold order, and back of it was a 
wicked-looking gun, a carbine such as the 
cavalry used in the war, pointing straight at 
him. 

Danny had been scared many a time, as all 
little boys have been, but never before had he 
come face to face with the fear of death. His 
hand, which had been raised to loosen the 
lariat around Dicko’s neck, fell to his side. 
Cold shivers ran up and down his back. “Don’t 
kill us, mister! We never did anything to 
you.” Then he choked up, for the tears were 
coming in his eyes and Danny wasn’t going to 
let this horse thief see him cry. 

“Git on that pony and don’t try any tricks. 
Ye needn’t be skeered. I’m taking you to a 
nice lady. She’ll edicate you. Lady Emeline!” 
With one end of the lariat about Dicko’s neck 
and the other secured to the pommel of his 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


131 

saddle, the rustler started back across the 
prairie directly away from the camp. 

“Please let me go, mister. Aunt Mary 'll be 
looking for me. Please, mister!” Danny pleaded 
as he looked back and saw the camp fast 
disappearing. 

“Aunt Mary’s had you long enough. It’s 
Lady Emeline’s turn to have somebody to dish- 
wash.” Little Danny’s distress did not worry 
the horse thief in the least. The idea of Lady 
Emeline having somebody to educate gave him 
a chance to have a little fun, and in the hard 
life of a horse rustler such a chance wasn’t to 
be passed by. “I seen your Aunt Mary—she’s 
no lady. It’s a shame the way she handles a 
gun. Lady Emeline don’t shoot, but she’s got 
her weapons.” 

All evening long they rode across the plains. 
Once they had to pull up behind a clump of 
trees near a creek for an hour while a great 
herd of buffalo, disturbed by hunters to the 
southward, crowded by. Then on again across 
miles of alkali that looked like patches of snow. 
Danny had ceased to beg to be set free. He 
was beginning to be terribly frightened. Even 
though he had not been a prisoner, there was 
terror in the unending plain. Everything 
seemed different. It was like a bad dream, and 
sometimes that is what it was, for Danny 
would doze off now and then, and when he 


132 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


woke only Dicko’s round back under him made 
him realize that it was all too true. 

It was growing- dusk when they came upon 
the track of wheels across a bed of alkali. 
The tracks led by and by into a little valley 
where a tiny stream of clear water flowed 
toward them. Soon rocky walls closed in along 
the stream so that there was just room on one 
side for a wagon to pass, and then all at once 
the valley opened out into what is called a 
“sink” in that country, with a low ledge of 
rocks around. A spring in the middle of this 
space formed the source of the tiny stream. 

Back of the spring, almost hidden by some 
low trees, were the two wagons with the dark 
covers which had passed camp three days be¬ 
fore, and grazing about in this natural inclos¬ 
ure Danny recognized the horses from their 
camp. There was Barney’s black wheel horse 
and Aunt Mary’s gray mare and Columbus 
Jones’s old roan and all the rest. 

Danny for just one moment thought of 
“Donna Andrea.” If she were only here to 
help poor “Pedro”! and then he heard an old 
cracked voice calling: 

“Now what in th’ name of Time have you 
got there, Pinkey? Another one to cook for. 
Are you startin’ a ’sylum? Good evening, little 
gentleman. You ’pear to be a ’ristocrat; ridin’ 
ro^nd on your pony for pleasure, I persume?” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


133 


It was the shriveled old woman with the corn¬ 
cob pipe who had driven one of the wagons 
when they passed the camp. 

“No, please, missus; I ain’t a ’ristocrat, and 
we want to go home, me and Dicko.” 

“I s’pose you lived in a palace East, didn’t 
yer?” she asked. 

“No, ma’am, I lived in the poorhouse. Please 
let me go!” 

Lady Emeline wasn’t any better to look at 
when she laughed than when she frowned. 
“Let ye go back to the poorhouse, little gentle¬ 
man? Let ye go back to the poorhouse? Not 
while they’s dishes to wash. He—he—he! Now 
what’s your name, little prince?” 

Danny didn’t know exactly why—perhaps 
because the name had something to do with the 
idea of escape—but he replied, “Pedro.” 

“Come along then, Pedro. Supper’s ’most 
ready. Sancho Pedro—that ’ll be a lucky 
name. I’ll look an’ see what the cards says.” 

A big kettle hung over a fire between the 
wagons'; it was very black inside and out, but 
from it came the odor of food, and Danny, or 
Pedro, as he chose to call himself, was not very 
hard to please when he was tired and hungry. 
A greasy tin plate and spoon were given him 
and he was told to help himself. Pinkey—Lady 
Emeline must have named him Pinkey because 
he was as yellow as an old piece of leather— 



134 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Pinkey was already seated on the wagon 
tongue with his platter, grumbling over his 
food. 

“Yer a perfect lady, Lady Emeline, but 
you’re losin’ yer skill as a cook.” 

“You’re a well-known horse thief, but a poor 
provider!” was the retort. “With all these 
buffaloes going by us and not a tongue or a 
tenderloin for the pan.” 

You might call one of these men a “horse 
rustler,” a “desperado,” an “outlaw,” a “red- 
leg,” a “guerilla,” a “border ruffian,” and he 
would smile and look pleased. But some little 
boyhood lesson half remembered made the 
word “thief” odious. 

A big black-bearded face was thrust out 
from under the flap of one of the wagons and a 
hard, snarling voice said: “Cut out that ‘horse 
thief’ talk, Lady Emeline. We call you Lady. 
We’re entitled to something for that.” 

There was only one person in the “rustler 
outfit” Lady Emeline was afraid of, and that 
was the leader. He had a tongue as sharp as 
her own and, besides, had all the reckless cour¬ 
age of a desperado. 

From the other wagon Danny heard groans 
every little while and he was pretty sure they 
came from the man Aunt Mary had hit with 
her first shot. Where was Bonaparte? he won¬ 
dered. If only Bonaparte hadn’t forgotten and 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i35 


wandered away from his gun! Presently he 
saw something move back of one of the wagons 
—something dark. He heard the rattling of 
a chain. Yes, there was Bonaparte chained to 
the wagon wheel. His head was bandaged and 
the poor fellow looked very sad and very weak. 
He saw Danny and would have liked to call to 
him, but fear made him dumb. 

Lady Emeline pottered about her fire, mum¬ 
bling to herself the things she dared not say 
out loud, and nursing a grudge against every¬ 
body in camp. “Somebody’s got to pay for 
this,” she was saying to herself, and just then 
she saw Danny, looking almost happy, about 
to dip a second time into the big black pot. 
“It seems we’ve got to be polite in this outfit, 
my pretty Pedro; but jest who told you to help 
yourself again? These poorhouse manners’ve 
got to be mended!” and smiling again that ugly 
smile that Danny learned to dread, she cut the 
little boy across the cheek with a wet cloth 
which she held in her hand. It was a cruel 
blow and it stung like a whip. But worse still 
was the ugly smile that came with it. Not since 
he left the poorfarm had anyone lifted a hand 
against the boy; but while tears rolled down 
his cheeks not a sound came from his lips. 
Only the heaving of his little chest showed 
how hard it was to keep from crying. 

“That youngster’s got a good nerve,” Pinkey 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


136 

muttered. Then he picked up an old horse 
blanket and rolled himself in it and was soon 
fast asleep. When it grew late the black- 
bearded chief tossed out a blanket to Danny 
and told him to wrap himself up in it and 
go to sleep. The ground was very hard and 
the blanket wouldn’t stay wrapped, but Danny 
was very tired and by and by he fell into a 
troubled slumber. Next morning after break¬ 
fast poor Danny was set at work cleaning up 
pots and pans which had served in cooking 
many a meal since their last washing. 

Hot sand and bunch grass made a good sub¬ 
stitute for hot water and soap, and all morning 
long Danny scrubbed and scoured. All the 
time he was thinking, “When will Aunt Mary 
and Uncle Barney come and take me away?” 
For Danny hadn’t the least doubt in the world 
but what Aunt Mary would find him just as 
she had found the horses in the old covered 
bridge. 

At noon he was told to take the remains of 
the food in the big black pot and carry it to 
poor Bonaparte. This was the first time that 
he had been able to speak to the negro boy, and 
now he had to whisper, as the chief was resting 
in the next wagon. 

“Are you hurt very bad, Bonaparte?” Danny 
asked. 

“No, I isn’t hurt so bad, but I’s ’fraid of my 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


137 


life. Dese yah rustlers t’ink no mo’ of a po’ 
nigger’s life dan dey would of a jack rabbit’s. 
If I’d only stayed by my rifle like Marse Haynes 
tol’ me, we wouldn’t be here, chil’. I’s likely 
to git a horsewhippin’ if I gets back, but I’d 
like to take that whippin’ right now.” 

“I’ve told them my name is 'Pedro/ Boney, 
so be sure you call me that. I don’t want them 
to call me Danny. They’re thieves and Danny’s 
my own name.” Danny took the big black pot 
back to the fire and scrubbed and scoured at 
it all afternoon. Meanwhile Pinkey had a long 
talk with the chief and Lady Emeline. There 
was some wrangling, but when it was all over 
Pinkey sulkily threw the saddle on his horse, 
rounded up all the stolen animals except Dicko, 
and made off to the southwest. Dinner was 
cooked at dusk, and a very good dinner it was. 
Lady Emeline was a good cook when she chose 
to be, and Danny’s clean dishes helped save 
the taste of things. Danny soon saw that a 
word of praise from the chief, which came after 
dinner, made all the difference in Lady Erne- 
line’s temper, and he got no more cuffs that 
night. Taking his old horse blanket, which 
he had hung up to air all day, he crept for 
company alongside Bonaparte. The poor ne¬ 
gro had no blanket or wrap of any kind, and 
when everybody seemed to be asleep Danny 
slipped over to where a very ragged old Navajo 


i3» 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


was used to cover some harness, and he soon 
had Bonaparte sleeping warm and comfortable. 

Early in the morning, while it was still dark, 
he woke with a great start. Something cold 
and wet had touched him on the cheek. Could 
it be a snake? He dared not move. Then he 
heard a whine. In an instant he was wide 
awake. A pair of shaggy little paws were 
round his neck. Nebuchadnezzar was licking 
his face. 

If Danny had dared he would have shouted 
for joy. Surely Aunt Mary and Barney must 
be near at hand. The little dog’s shaggy hair 
was full of cockleburrs, but Danny didn’t feel 
them as he hugged the faithful little animal 
who had tracked him night and day. 

When daylight came Nebuchadnezzar had 
found a bone and was happily chewing away 
as though he were at home. 

While Danny was gathering wood for Lady 
Emeline’s fire he looked about. There were 
no signs of breaking camp. Lady Emeline 
after breakfast got out a tin tub and heated 
water. “Come, my poorhouse prince, get down 
that old washboard from under the wagon seat 
and go to work. Would you see Lady Emeline 
rub and scrub? No, my Pedro! And be care¬ 
ful with the soap; it’s scarce.” 

Lady Emeline had placed a scrap of broken 
looking-glass low down in the trunk of a small 



DANNY AND “LADY EMELINE’s” BEAUTY PARLOR 


















DANNY’S PARTNER 


139 


tree, and while she instructed Danny in his 
new duties she sat down in front of the bit of 
mirror, an old cigar box open in her lap. 
Danny looked up now and then from his scrub¬ 
bing, and each time he saw her smiling at her¬ 
self in the glass. On one bony yellow finger 
she would curl a wisp of her gray locks, and 
from the cigar box darken it with a stick of 
black pomatom. Then she would let the curl 
hang down beside her hideous old parchment 
face and take a few puffs at her corncob pipe. 
Danny didn’t enjoy being a washerwoman. 
He was angry clear through. Surely Aunt 
Mary and Uncle Barney would come for him 
to-day. But for all his anger and his troubles, 
he could hardly keep from smiling when he 
looked at Lady Emeline. She looked so funny 
“trying to make herself look pretty.” 

Danny’s eyes were back on his tub when he 
heard the chief’s rasping voice: “Improving 
on nature, eh, Lady Emeline? Painting the 
lily! Gettin’ younger every day!” 

The cigar box was closed with a snap, and 
in place of the old woman’s wicked smile came 
a look still more evil. “I s’pose you must be 
goin’ to a masquerade with that black beard 
of yours—makes it harder to recognize “Red” 
Morgan, wanted for murder and horse thievin’ 
in Lawrence!” And Lady Emeline’s yellow 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


140 

chin came out from between her blackened 
curls. 

Two red spots showed above the black 
beard, but the chief said nothing as he turned 
and walked away. Danny couldn’t catch all 
this, for it was hissed rather than spoken, but 
he saw Lady Emeline look after the retreating 
figure with hate and fear in her eyes. 

Lady Emeline’s temper was uncertain and 
sometimes it led her too far. The chief would 
pay her for this when she least expected it. 
But there was “Pedro”; she could do as she 
pleased with him; and he had heard the chief 
make fun of her. 

“What are ye staring at me for, pauper? 
What, only three shirts washed? And the 
water gettin’ cold!” And Danny felt two bony 
hands with fingers like claws of a vulture 
clutching his arms and digging into his flesh. 

The little fellow screamed with pain, and in 
a second Nebuchadnezzar, who was digging up 
a bone near by, dashed to the defense of his 
little master. It didn’t take long for the dog 
to sink his teeth in the wrist of the old woman, 
who set up such a screeching that the chief 
came running back and even the wounded man 
crawled to the end of his wagon to see what 
was the matter. 

“Kill that dog! Shoot him! He’s bit me!” 
called Lady Emeline. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


141 

“No! No! Don’t shoot him!” called Danny 
as the chief drew his revolver. “She was hurt¬ 
ing* my arms. That’s my dog, and he was 
trying to stop her. He’s my dog; his name is 
Nebuchadnezzar. 

“His name is what?” And the chief lowered 
his gun. 

“It’s Nebuchadnezzar!” 

“Lady Emeline, your temper isn’t just what 
it ought to be to-day. Maybe you were a little 
too free with those claws of yours. Anyway, I 
can’t shoot a dog with a name like ‘Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar.’ ” And again the captain turned away. 
But this time it was to conceal a grin. 

Lady Emeline’s torn wrist didn’t disturb 
Red Morgan at all. In fact, the incident put 
the chief in rather a good humor, and as he 
passed Bonaparte, who was still sitting chained 
to the wagon wheel, holding his head between 
his hands, he poked the unhappy negro with 
his foot and asked him if he was ready to 
promise not to run away if his handcuffs were 
taken off. 

“ ’Deed, boss, I’ve got nowhars to run to. 
I’s brought up to min’ whate’r white folks yo’ 
all says. I guess yo’s my marster now.” 

“That’s the way to talk, boy.” The chief 
took a key out of his pocket and a moment later 
the chains fell to the ground. Bonaparte 
rubbed his cramped legs and got to his feet. 


142 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“I kin clean up yo’ harness for you, Marse; 
looks like it need oilin’.” And Bonaparte was 
soon singing and whistling his old plantation 
melodies as though he had nothing at all to 
trouble him. But down deep in his mind were 
running plans of escape with Danny and the 
pony. 


CHAPTER XIII 


J^OME time after midnight Danny and Bona¬ 
parte were awakened by the arrival in 
camp of Pinkey and his weary horse. He had 
ridden hard ever since he lost the horses in the 
dry river bed, and now he had to face the chief 
and tell his story. It didn't take him long. He 
was there and the horses were gone, that was 
enough. 

“So all we got is a pony and a brat, a nigger 
and a wounded man, out of this, thanks to 
you." And the chief said more. Lady Emeline, 
poking her head out of the end of her wagon, 
added a few words that cracked like whip 
lashes around the ears of the luckless Pinkey. 

“You'd 'a' stood off three men armed with 
rifles, and one of 'em Captain Haynes, known 
all over as a dead shot! I saw him shoot a 
pigeon flyin' over camp at Lawrence, an' if it 
hadn't been for the trees in the way, he’d have 
got me climbin' out of the canon. As it is, I 
thought I heard ’em after me several times 
in the night, and maybe Lady Emeline may 
have a chance to try tongue lashin’ on 'em yet." 

“Well, there’s no use chewin' over what's 

done. What we’ve got to do now is pull out 

of here and get to the ford. If we can put the 

143 


144 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


river between them and us it ’ll be a lot health¬ 
ier travelin’ west. Lucky Captain Haynes has 
never been over the southern trail. Wonder 
what Shanks ’ll say when you don’t turn up 
at his ranch with the horses to-morrow? It’s 
too late to start to-night; we couldn’t make 
the ford before daylight. All we can do is lay 
low to-morrow and start when it gets good and 
dark.” 

The next morning the chief and Pinkey took 
turns watching from a little rocky knob for 
unwelcome visitors, and, except while cooking 
dinner, Lady Emeline tried to get a little 
beauty sleep before making the long night 
journey to the ford. It was hard for anyone 
to get any rest, for now the wounded man was 
passing into the delirium of fever, and over 
and over he would mumble: “No, no, Judge. 
I didn’t go for to shoot him. If Red Morgan 
hadn’t— There he is now!” 

Danny and Nebuchadnezzar had an easy day, 
with Lady Emeline resting; and Bonaparte 
polished up all the buckles on the harness, 
while all the cunning of the black boy’s mind 
was fixed on the one idea of escape for Danny 
and himself. 

At nine o’clock the chief thought it was 
almost dark enough to start. “Here, you 
Bonaparte! Get in the horses. The blacks 
at the wheel of my wagon and the buckskins 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i45 


to lead. Pinkey, you get up your own team. 
You, boy, get your pony. We start in half an 
hour.” It was little more than that when the 
two dark-covered wagons with the chief riding 
along in front were on their way. At the spring 
they stopped to fill a cask with fresh water, 
and then all filed out through the little canon, 
Pinkey’s wagon in the rear, with Danny and 
Dicko alongside. 

Last of all came Nebuchadnezzar. Once 
more the poor dog had to leave a large collec¬ 
tion of bones which had taken him all day to 
bury. It hadn’t been altogether a joyous visit 
to the bandit camp, for Lady Emeline on sev¬ 
eral occasions aimed a panful of hot water at 
the shaggy little dog, and there was still one 
very sore spot on his back, but he was there to 
help Danny and he could still wag his little 
stump of a tail as he followed in Dicko’s tracks. 

Dark clouds covered the moon and the chief 
made everyone keep as quiet as possible. Only 
the beat of the horses’ hoofs on the hard ground 
and the creaking of the wagons could be heard, 
and now and then, as they traveled over a 
rough bit of ground, the groans of the wounded 
man. Danny was very tired. He clung to 
Dicko’s thick mane and many times fell asleep. 
Once when he woke up they had halted under 
a bluff. He seemed to hear horsemen coming 
toward them and his heart thumped under his 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


146 

flannel shirt, for it surely must be Captain 
Haynes or Uncle Barney coming after him. 
The chief and Lady Emeline and Pinkey 
seemed to think so, too, for they all had their 
guns ready and were down behind the rear 
wagon. 

“Git out there in front, my pretty pauper! 
They’ll never shoot at Lady Emeline if they’s 
a chance of hittin’ their Pedro!” Danny didn’t 
need a second word. Out he dashed toward 
the oncoming horsemen, who loomed up in the 
darkness. 

But what were those other sounds of snarl¬ 
ing and snapping? and how big the horseman 
looked! Suddenly he turned; it wasn’t a horse¬ 
man at all; it was an old, solitary bull buffalo, 
driven out from his herd. A dozen gray wolves 
were worrying him and he turned and charged 
them. Dicko scented the wolves before Danny 
saw them. He whirled about and was back at 
the wagons in a flash. 

“The wolves is welcome to him,” said Pinkey. 
“He’s as tough as his hide all the way through.” 
So the old bull was left to fight his last battle 
alone and the rustlers hurried on, hoping to 
make the ford before daylight. 

When Aunt Mary and Barney approached 
the camp it was very late. The flickering light 
of a fire could be seen and the huge shadows of 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i47 


two men were cast up on the high white canvas 
of the wagons. Aunt Mary’s heart sank within 
her, for there was no smaller shadow, no 
shadow of little Danny beside them. 

“Doctor, has Danny—is Danny—in his bed?” 

Doctor Sylvester got up. He threw out his 
hands and shook his head. “Columbus and I 
searched every gully for miles about here all 
day. Yes, Mrs. Elmore, the only thing we 
found was a place that looked like a horse had 
pulled up quick and dug his hoofs in the 
ground. Close by was a place where some sun¬ 
flowers were knocked over and we thought we 
saw tracks of the pony there. We searched 
and searched about and Columbus finally found 
a fishing line wound up on a stick. We think 
it was Danny’s extra line that must have fallen 
out of his pocket in a struggle. The thieves 
have got the boy, no doubt of that, But he is 
alive. They have no reason to hurt him and 
we’ll get him back, never fear.” 

By this time Aunt Mary was sobbing bit¬ 
terly. With all the courage of a man, she was 
a woman still, and once again she had been 
robbed of a much-loved boy. 

Barney meanwhile was quietly taking care 
of the horses and securing them for the night. 
“They’ll need to be in good shape to-morrow,” 
he said to Columbus. Poor Jones’s head was 
tied up in bandages, and what with the blow 


148 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


the bullet had struck, even though a glancing 
one, and the heat of the sun in the all-day hunt 
for Danny, he was dizzy and sick. The dog 
Nebuchadnezzar had disappeared during the 
night when Danny was carried off, and when 
Aunt Mary heard this she almost smiled 
through her tears. 

“He tracked us when we went after the 
horses in Illinois. If a coyote don’t get him, he 
will find Danny. The child won’t be so fright¬ 
ened if Nebuchadnezzar is with him. What 
have you poor men had to eat while I was 
away? Why, Columbus Jones, you need a cup 
of tea, and Barney needs a square meal. Just 
poke up the fire a bit, Doctor, and I’ll get 
things going again.” 

The sun was an hour high next morning 
when the captain and his two men came in 
with the horses. Aunt Mary and Barney had 
been up since daylight, preparing breakfast 
for them. They were all hungry and sleepy, 
and no sooner had they finished their coffee 
and bacon than all three curled up where they 
were and dropped off into a sound slumber. 
Soon after noon the captain awoke, and the 
doctor and Columbus told him of the finding 
of the fishing line. 

“I believe we can track them. If the doctor 
and Nicholas and Barney will go with me, 
Mrs. Elmore can look after Columbus and 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i49 


Denis will see to the horses. We’ll bring - the 
boy back, Mrs. Elmore, and Bonaparte, too.” 

At two o’clock the four men rode out to 
where the doctor and Columbus had found 
the last signs of Danny and Dicko. “The boy 
was making for the camp, that is sure; and they 
back-tracked quite a ways,” said the captain, 
as they followed the broken sunflowers, “and 
here’s where they quit circling and struck off 
south. The ground’s softer here—you can see 
the pony’s hoofmarks plain.” 

For many miles they followed the trail until 
they came to where Danny and Pinkey had 
encountered the buffalo herd. Then they had 
to make a guess and take the general direction, 
hoping to pick up the tracks again. 

The captain and Barney went straight ahead, 
while the doctor and Nicholas rode to the right 
and left. Soon Nicholas stopped and waved 
his hat. He had crossed the trail. 

At sundown they came on the wagon tracks 
leading into the little rocky gorge and felt sure 
they were nearing the camp of the outlaws. 
“You, Barney and Nicholas, stay here, and the 
doctor and I will ride over the bluff, and when 
it gets dusk we’ll locate the camp by their fire. 
That little stream of spring water shows that 
they aren’t far off.” 

The doctor and the captain soon discovered 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


150 

the camp below them in the little rock-bound 
valley, and arranged their plan of attack. 

Going back for Nicholas and Barney, they 
rode out on the prairie a mile or so from the 
outlaws' camp, hobbled their horses, rolled up 
in their blankets, and prepared to wait until 
the rustlers should be sound asleep. An hour 
or so before daylight they were to lead their 
horses close to the edge of the rocks, climb 
down, and take the camp by surprise. 

The plan was a good one and would have 
succeeded if the outlaws had been there when 
the captain and his party climbed down the 
rocks; but all they found were a few live coals 
in the remains of a camp fire. The horse rus¬ 
tlers had departed six hours before. 

“Too bad they've got a start of us, Doctor. 
But we've got a plain trail with those wagon 
tracks." And Captain Haynes and his party 
scrambled back up to their horses and were 
soon galloping over the bluff to the entrance of 
the little canon. There wasn't the least trouble 
in following the wagon tracks until they struck 
the main traveled road near the river. In 
entering this road the rustlers had very plainly 
turned east. “That turn is too plain to be 
true," said Captain Haynes, and sure enough, 
half a mile below could be seen the wheel marks 
where they had turned back to the west. 

“Do you remember a road leading over 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


151 

toward the river that we passed when we rode 
west the first day, Captain ?” Barney was 
trying to think how far they had ridden before 
they came to it. 

“Why, yes, Barney, we thought it ran just 
to a camping ground.” 

“Well, I believe it ? s the road to a ford, Cap¬ 
tain.” While they were still talking a bend 
in the road brought them to the very spot. No 
wagon tracks, however, led from the main road, 
but Nicholas with his keen eyes saw a place, 
just beyond, where the bushes were broken 
down, and sure enough they found that the 
sly outlaws had driven past the fork and then 
through the bushes and back into the side 
road a dozen yards toward the river. 

Picking up the wagon tracks again, the 
captain and his party soon came to a ford. 
There was no doubt now the rustlers were on 
the north side of the river, and perhaps con¬ 
sidered themselves safe and would go into 
camp before night. 

It was now a little past noon and the captain 
believed the wagons could not be more than 
two hours ahead of his party, but it was neces¬ 
sary to let the horses rest and graze a little. 
All hands opened their saddlebags and, as they 
ate a cold bite, planned their next move. They 
must go forward with extreme caution and 
not take any chance of being ambushed where 


152 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


the road ran through weeds as high as a horse¬ 
man's head. In an open fight they knew they 
could more than hold their own, but this was 
a country of the enemy's own choosing and to 
enter it was a good deal like chasing a wolf 
into its den. 

They believed that whatever road there 
might be across the river it must run close to 
the banks. A quarter of a mile back were low 
bluffs broken every little way by what are 
called “draws" in the western country (little 
blind valleys running back into the hills). 
They determined to ford the river, ride across 
the foot of these bluffs, and so up the river for 
a few miles, and then drop back to the stream 
again. In that way the wagons might be dis¬ 
covered if they had pulled into one of the draws 
as a hiding place, and if not it would still be 
possible to search the river bank on their way 
back to the ford. 

But that was where Red Morgan of ; the 
blackened beard had the advantage. He knew 
his ground. Only half a mile below the ford 
was a place where a rocky ledge ran across the 
river. It was not as good a place to cross the 
river as the regular ford because there were 
several pot holes in the rocks, but to one who 
knew his way it could be used in a pinch. Like 
his red brother, the fox, Morgan, after fording 
the river, doubled on his tracks, crossed back 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


153 


on the ledge to the south side of the stream, 
and was camped in the dense bushes and weeds 
not three quarters of a mile away when the 
captain and his party ate their lunch at the 
ford. 

All afternoon Captain Haynes searched the 
bluffs and draws and finally the north bank of 
the river back to the ford. Stray herds of buf¬ 
falo had so tramped about in the weeds and 
bushes that it was impossible to tell just where 
the wagons had broken through. The rocky 
ledge was passed by without a suspicion that 
the rustlers had recrossed there, and when 
night came on the little band drew back to the 
highest bluff and watched in turn until mid¬ 
night for signs of a camp fire. 

In the morning they made a small fire of 
their own, boiled coffee and cooked some dried 
buffalo meat. It didn't take very long to eat 
this simple meal. All were eager to get in 
the saddle again, but not the least clew had 
they to go on. The rustlers had disappeared 
without leaving a trace. 

“Maybe they never crossed the river," ven¬ 
tured Nick. “Maybe they drove right down 
to the river and then back to the main trail 
again." 

“No, they crossed, all right. I saw the places 
where the horses slipped in the mud when they 
pulled out on the north bank," said Barney. 


154 DANNY’S PARTNER 

“Well, we will go back to the ford, now that 
we have good daylight, and see just what trace 
they did leave/’ decided the captain. 

But the buffalo had been there to water 
ahead of them and all traces of the rustlers 
and their own were gone completely. For 
half a day they searched the north shore in 
vain, and shortly after noon the captain sadly 
gave the word to end the search and go back 
to camp. “I don’t believe they will harm the 
boy.” Both he and the doctor agreed on this. 

Barney wanted to go on, but Nicholas with 
hard common sense pointed out that if the 
rustlers were traveling west they were sure to 
get back on the trail again and would be seen 
bv east-bound travelers. 

mJ 

“We’re sure to meet somebody who’s seen 
them, Barney, and then we’ll get ’em.” What 
Nicholas meant by “get ’em” was shown by the 
way he laid his hand on a rifle that hung in a 
long leather holster back of his stirrup. 


i 


CHAPTER XIV 


A PHE old fox, Red Morgan, with the black- 
*■* ened beard, doubled on his tracks when he 
struck the main trail, just as the captain had 
believed, and again, at the ford, on reaching 
the farther bank, took his wagons through the 
most trampled weeds and bushes down to the 
rocky crossing, where he doubled back to the 
south bank again. Danny couldn't see what 
it was all about, but Bonaparte knew and he 
saw their chance of escape slipping away. 

During that day and the next night the 
wounded man grew rapidly worse. Bonaparte 
filled his mattress full of long grass and sat up 
with him all night, trying to soothe his trou¬ 
bled mind and ease his pain, but at last, when 
the gray mists were floating through the trees 
just before dawn, Bonaparte fell asleep. Danny 
was rolled up in his blanket near by, and Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar's shaggy head could be seen close 
beside his little master’s curly one. 

The wounded man was stirring. He crept 
over, dragging his shattered leg until he had 
passed the sleeping negro and the boy. He 
was whispering to himself, “Once out of the 
fort, they’ll never get me!” Farther and 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


156 

farther he crawled away toward the river. 
Nebuchadnezzar cocked an ear, but Danny 
and Bonaparte slept on. Suddenly the whole 
camp was awakened by terrible shrieks. The 
delirium had come on again. Bonaparte and 
Danny were up in a moment and ran toward 
the river. 

There was the wounded thief dragging him¬ 
self toward a deep swirling pool below the 
rocky ledge. Bonaparte had almost reached 
him when with a cry the man threw himself 
into the foaming water and disappeared. Nor 
did he come up again until his body was seen 
far down the swift stream an hour later, lodged 
in the branches of a fallen tree. 

“Let him stay where he is,” was all Red Mor¬ 
gan had to say as they all stood on the bank. 

Lady Emeline was wiping her eyes. “Maybe 
you could crawl out an’ git his watch, deery,” 
she said to Danny. “It’s a gold repeater.” 

“A good thing he left his gun in his bunk,” 
said the practical Pinkey. 

It looked as though the dead thief had left 
no friends; but Bonaparte had nursed him 
through the night. He said nothing, only mo¬ 
tioned to Danny, and they went back to the 
wagons. Spades were always carried to dig 
out the wagons when mired, and Bonaparte 
found two. When he and Danny got back to 


DANNY’S PARTNER 157 

the river Red Morgan and the others had gone. 
The poor dead thief was alone. 

Bonaparte waded in and carried him ashore 
back through the tall weeds. “Danny, disa 
yer’ white man’s got er folks somewhere. What 
he done bad he’s paid for. He can’t sin no mo’ 
now dan a little chil’. Some ol’ white-har’ 
woman somewhar maybe done be glad if she 
see us now,” and Bonaparte marked out a place 
in the ground, six feet long and two feet wide, 
with his spade, and began to dig. Danny 
worked hard, too, and before noon they had a 
grave dug for the outlaw. “Put a little leaves 
on de bottom so he’s lie easy, Danny.” 

Very tenderly the black boy lifted the poor 
thief from the ground and laid him on the 
leaves, folding his hands across his breast. 
“Now, Danny,” said he, “you say little prayer 
lak yo’ ma’ taught you.” 

“I didn’t ever have any mother, but Aunt 
Mary taught me one.” 

Danny knelt down at the foot of the rude 
grave and repeated his little prayer while the 
tears rolled down the black face of the colored 
boy. Before they left the spot Bonaparte piled 
logs and rocks over the grave so that no wolves 
might disturb it. 

When they returned to the wagons, Lady 
Emeline, Red Morgan, and Pinkey, who had 
crawled out and recovered the gold watch be- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


158 

fore they left their dead comrade, were busy 
throwing dice to see who should own the 
watch. 

This was their way of settling a dispute 
which had lasted all morning. Lady Emeline 
was the winner. She got out an old gold chain 
from her belongings in her wagon and all 
afternoon kept looking at the watch, although 
it had stopped for all time at five that morning. 

Danny and Bonaparte were very tired and 
were glad of a chance to sleep all afternoon. 
Chief Morgan satisfied himself by careful 
watching from a clump of thick bushes, that 
all Captain Haynes’s party had recrossed the 
river and were on their way back to their camp. 
He was too wise to travel ahead of them on the 
main trail now, knowing they would make 
inquiries of any men they met going east. He 
proposed to wait until they went by and then 
cross over the river and follow trails he knew 
which would bring him out only a short dis¬ 
tance away from the main Santa Fe Trail a 
hundred miles west. Meanwhile he must be on 
the lookout for another caravan to plunder, and 
also for a man to take the place of the one he 
had lost. 

The next morning when Danny woke up, 
the chief was nowhere to be seen. He had 
taken his best horse and at midnight had 
crossed the river, Bonaparte said. For two 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i59 


days he was gone. Pinkey and Lady Emeline 
sat most of the time with a pack of cards be¬ 
tween them on the tailboard of one of the 
wagons. Bonaparte did the cooking. Lady 
Emeline with her gold watch, her corncob 
pipe, a game of cards, and no work to do, 
became almost kindly. 

“Napoleon Bonaparte, are you feeding that 
child ?” she would call in her cracked voice. 
“My pauper prince (that’s a spade, not a club, 
Pinkey)—my prince of the poorfarm—if I win 
the rest of Pinkey’s money you shall have a 
saddle with silver nails when we git to the 
trader’s at Fort Dodge. (That’s the second 
time you’ve tried to play a club for a spade, 
Pinkey! D’ye think Pm losin’ my eyesight?”) 

“Ye’r never losin’ nothin’ at cards, Lady 
Emeline. Not if it’s your own pack.” And so 
the first day went. 

The next day Lady Emeline got out a couple 
of old fishing lines and hooks and told Danny 
and Bonaparte they might go fishing just be¬ 
low the ledge after breakfast; but if they tried 
to run away “to jest remember you’ve got no 
place to run to; no food—no blankets”; and 
“no weapons,” put in Pinkey. “And then you 
wouldn’t leave Lady Emeline to weep when 
she’d hear the timber wolves a-howling an’ 
think of her little pauper prince, Pedro, maybe 
bein’ torn to pieces!” 


i6o DANNY’S PARTNER 

Poor Danny shivered at the mention of 
wolves; they were the one thing he feared. He 
remembered an old woman at the poorhouse 
who was always telling about wolves eating- 
little boys, and when he heard real wolves 
howling at night close to the camp he used to 
tremble and cover up his head in his blanket. 

“We won’t go beyond the ledge, Mrs. Erne- 
line-” 

Danny wouldn’t call her “Lady.” He had 
seen a real lady once—she used to come to the 
poorhouse at Christmas. Bonaparte had cut 
a couple of poles and was digging for bait, 
while Lady Emeline, between watching Pinkey 
to see that he dealt straight and keeping her 
corncob pipe filled, added to the cheerful list 
of things that might happen to Danny and 
Bonaparte if they tried to run away. 

The fish bit freely below the ledge, and as 
they fished Danny and Bonaparte tried to make 
some plan by which they might safely run 
away. Bonaparte hoped they would follow 
along the main trail. There were big cara¬ 
vans going west all the time, carrying pro¬ 
visions for the army posts, and sometimes 
cavalry troops came along. If they could get 
within a mile of a caravan or a troop Danny 
could make a dash on Dicko and Bonaparte 
would take one of the spare horses. 

“I ’mos’ guess stealin’ a horse from er o V 




DANNY’S PARTNER 


161 


horse thief ain’t stealin’ at all, an’ I’s goin’ to 
do it first chance I gets.” 

It was many a long weary day before they 
knew that while they were fishing and planning 
escape their own party was passing not five 
hundred yards away on its road west. While 
they were talking, Aunt Mary from her wagon 
seat, with her loaded rifle beside her, was 
watching and praying for signs of their captors 
as she drove along. Only a narrow belt of 
timber separated her from her little Danny 
and Bonaparte, but many miles were to be 
traveled over before they should be together 
again. The next day the chief, Red Morgan, 
rode into camp. With him was a shifty-eyed 
stranger. 

“ About the meanest-lookin’ white man, 
Danny, ever I did see. Can’t even look a black 
boy in de eye. Jes’ yo’ keep cl’ar from him; 
he’s worse dan Lady Emeline,” cautioned 
Bonaparte. 

Danny heard the stranger in a high-pitched 
voice greeting Lady Emeline as an old friend. 
When they talked together Bonaparte said: 

"Jes’ lak pa’r of ol’ black crows up in er ol’ 
sycamo’ tree, always a-plottin’ mischief sho’ as 
vo’ alive.” 

Bonaparte slipped round one of the wagons 
where he could hear what they were talking 
about, and the first words he caught were 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


162 

about Danny. “Ye ought to get shut of that 
boy and pony, Emeline. The’re too con-spic-u- 
ous. Anybody sees ’em, sure to git you-all in 
Irouble.” 

“Yes, when we get back on the main trail 
we’ll have to cl’ar him out; but I’m so special 
fond of children. The dear Pedro is so useful 
to fetch an’ carry. While we’re acrost the 
river I just haven’t the heart to let him go.” 

“Yo’ shore is tender-hearted, Lady Eme¬ 
line,” and the shifty eyes met the lady’s for at 
least a second. 

“Danny, yo’ oughta seen de smile on ’em two 
faces when he said dat. Down on the Bayou 
in Louisiana I seen ol’ alligator smile jes’ so. 
But never yo’ min’, chil’; we’s goin’ git away. 
Yo’ Aunt Mary’s sma’t lady. For sure she’s 
thinkin’ how she can find you this very min¬ 
ute.” 

That night they crossed the river and all the 
next day the horses were driven hard. The 
horses were fresh after their two days’ rest 
and when they went into camp beside a clear 
spring some two miles or more back from the 
river they had made at least forty miles. 

That night Danny slept very soundly. Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar’s little head stuck out from under 
the boy’s blanket and all night long one ear 
or the other was cocked up, for no harm should 
befall his young master if Nebuchadnezzar 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


163 

Could help it. On the long ride Danny had 
taught the little dog to sit behind him on 
Dicko’s back. Nebuchadnezzar would sit very 
quietly until a jack rabbit started up along the 
trail, then he would forget he was a bareback 
rider, jump to the ground, and start off in 
vain pursuit. 

Danny used to pass acres and acres of beau¬ 
tiful flowers and he would wish for the doctor 
to tell him what they were. While on the road 
there were times when Danny was almost 
happy, but at night when they made camp 
thoughts of Aunt Mary and Uncle Barney 
and how worried they must be about him 
would cause the tears to come in his eyes and 
roll down his cheeks, and Nebuchadnezzar 
would nestle closer to him. But while Danny 
would sometimes cry himself to sleep, no blows 
or hard words from Lady Emeline—and she 
was not sparing of either when she was in one 
of her fits of temper—could make him shed a 
tear. 

For three weeks they traveled on, sometimes 
stopping a day or two while the chief and 
Pinkey and the new man with the shifty eyes, 
whom Lady Emeline called “Long Hooker,” 
crossed the river to raid some small “outfit” 
and run off their horses while they were 
grazing. 

A caravan carries no feed to speak of for its 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


164 

horses or oxen in crossing the plains. A start 
from the border towns is never made until the 
grass is high enough to provide feed for the 
animals all the way across to the mountains. 
This makes it very hard for a small caravan 
to protect its horses. Sometimes the grass is 
a long way from the camping place and the 
“rustlers” can easily stampede the animals. 

Several times Red Morgan and his men 
came back empty handed. The caravans had 
been too large for them to attack. Once Bona¬ 
parte told Danny that “ ’em sho’ly must have 
caught er oP wil’ cat dis day.” All three had 
come in splashed with mud from the river 
bottom, their horses trembling and flecked 
with foam. “When I take de saddle offen de 
chief’s gray mare a bullet fall out an’ de saddle 
blanket plowed up lak annuder’s been through 
it. Marse Pinkey’s horse gone lame an’ I look 
to see, an’ sho’ nuff HP bullet just catch him 
through de skin of his fo’leg.” 

At midnight, after the horses had had a rest, 
Danny was wakened by Pinkey and told to 
get up his pony and waste no time about it. 
Lady Emeline was in a rage at having her 
sleep disturbed, and as usual at such times she 
began to talk of “horse thieves.” Morgan 
walked over to her wagon. 

“Look here, Emeline, Bonypart kin drive 
your wagon as well as you can, and he can 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


165 

cook better. He don’t talk so much and we’ll 
miss your conversation, Lady; but if you say 
the word we’ll leave you, with the boy to keep 
you company. He’s no horse thief.” 

“Jest hear the chief a chaffin’ a poor lone 
woman!” Lady Emeline was shivering with 
fear, but this was no time to show it. “And a 
innocent child !” In an instant she had changed 
her nightcap for a sunbonnet. Before Pinkey 
had his horses harnessed to the other wagon 
she, with Bonaparte’s aid, had hers all ready 
and was sitting on the driver’s seat, her corncob 
pipe in her mouth, a black snake whip in her 
hand, and a knife concealed under her skirt. 

“Let Red Morgan try to pull me off this 
seat . . .” she muttered under her breath. 

No stop was made that night; the horses 
were kept on a fast walk until broad daylight 
brought them to a long low bluff that seemed 
to extend for miles across the plains. They 
had left the Arkansas far behind them and 
along the foot of the bluff ran a little stream, 
almost dry at this season. 

“The dugout’s only a few rods upstream,” 
said Hooker. “Once in there with the wagons 
out of sight, we’re safe.” After the horses had 
had a drink Pinkey and Lady Emeline drove 
their wagons up to what looked like a hole in 
the bluff. The chief rode ahead and disap¬ 
peared into the gap, and the wagons followed. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


166 

Danny and Dicko had lagged behind. Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar was chasing a jack rabbit, and 
when Danny looked up the wagons were no 
longer to be seen, although a moment before 
they were in plain sight. 

He dashed ahead to see what had become 
of them and soon entered the gap. There he 
found the wagons pulled up under a shed 
which seemed to grow right out of the bluff. 
Danny could see that an open door led back 
into a large room beyond. 

“Turn your pony out to grass, my prince 
of paupers, and get a fire started for Lady Erne- 
line. Be mighty quick about it.” And the old 
woman cracked her black snake whip within 
an inch of Danny’s face. 

“Cut that out, Emeline!” It was Pinkey 
speaking. “I got a whip a foot longer than 
your’n and I can cut a button offen a man’s 
shirt with it. I’m kind o’ busy now and I got 
no more to say.” Pinkey walked away, while 
Bonaparte turned around toward the wall to 
conceal a row of very bright teeth. 

“Nobody seems to ’predate my innercent 
fun. Pedro, my sweet child, will you kindly 
build a fire for Lady Emeline?” A smile went 
with this; one of the sort which Danny knew 
too well. 


CHAPTER XV 


\X 7 ITH the wagons safely stowed away in a 
” place almost impossible to discover ex¬ 
cept by tracking them, the rustlers now had 
a headquarters from which they could make a 
raid with a good deal of safety. Buffalo were 
wandering over the plains in great herds and 
could be counted on to destroy any wagon 
tracks as they crowded across their trail. Less 
than a week after they had established them¬ 
selves in the dugout, Red Morgan returned 
one morning with twenty horses. He had lost 
one of his own; the gray mare never came back, 
but he rode a fine black horse and his saddle 
and bridle were almost new. 

Pinkey was sent back a mile or more to give 
warning in case they had been followed; but by 
night, no signs of pursuit having been seen, 
he was recalled and Lady Emeline and Bona¬ 
parte cooked them a dinner such as they had 
not eaten since they camped across the river. 

“Char the table quickly, my prince Pedro, 

and, Napoleon Bonypart, get out more candles. • 

We're going to celebrate with a little game. 

Bottles 'll do fer candlesticks." Lady Emeline 

was always at her best when she had her old 

greasy pack of cards out. a Come here, my 

167 


168 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


pauper prince, and I'll tell you your fortune. 
Hearts!—You will wait on a dark lady. Clubs! 
—you will be ungrateful. Dimon’s!—you will 
travel under the stars. Spades—you will dig 
for gold! Meantime you will wash the dishes.” 

Lady Emeline’s little game became very 
noisy and at several points came near ending 
in a wrangle. Danny and Bonaparte saw a 
bottle being passed around, which Long 
Hooker had brought from some place unknown 
to the rest, where he had it cached. 

They expected trouble, and Danny and Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar took their blankets out to one of 
the wagons for the night. Meantime Bona¬ 
parte waited until Lady Emeline and her party 
were too intent on their game to notice his 
absence, and slipped away, keeping along the 
top of the bluff in the direction of the Arkansas 
Valley. Half a mile away from the dugout 
arose the highest point of the ridge. It was a 
cloudy night and Bonaparte hardly expected 
to see very much; but he thought, “Way fum 
all dem noises roun’ de house, Ls shu’ can hear 
men on horseback er mile away. ’Em fool 
rustlers Link dey get away wid twenty good 
horses widout er fight to git ’em back? An’ 
maybe Pawnees see ’em run ’em off. Never 
know when er oP Indian is spookin’ roun’.” 

Midnight came and still Bonaparte waited 
on the bluff; but no sounds of a troop of horse- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


169 


men were to be heard, and an hour later he 
started back to the dugout. Halfway there he 
was startled to hear a coyote close in front of 
him and saw him scuttle away down a gully. 

“Mr. Coyote, you’s jes’ liT too big ter be 
true. Still, Ps right glad yo’ run away. I can 
run, too!” And Bonaparte made for the dug- 
out at the top of his speed. Once there, he 
saw that Lady Emeline’s party was over. All 
her guests had been too tired after their raid 
to quarrel. Lady Emeline had disappeared to 
her wagon. Red Morgan was snoring in his 
bunk and Long Hooker and Pinkey had rolled 
up in their blankets on the floor. One lone 
candle was guttering in the neck of a bottle. 

“LiT buffalo meat, liT bacon, liT coffee— 
guess nobody ’ll miss ’em. Blanket fo’ Danny, 
blanket fo’ Bonaparte, saddlebags fo’ carry 
food in.—well, I declare, if dere ain’t Lady 
Emerline’s lace hankacher! Wonder whar she 
stole him! Dar ain’t no time to wasten. Early 
mo’nin’ is de time dey oY Indian comes. An’ 
I’s heard a coyote howl dis night dat ’ll be a 
full-grown Pawnee in de mo’nin’ . . .” 

“Danny! Danny! Wake up easy. Creep 
outen ol’ wagon. Don’ say word !” 

Danny was in a sound sleep when Bonaparte 
touched him and whispered for him to get up. 
Danger had made the little fellow quick to 
waken. 


170 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“What are you going to do, Bonaparte? 
Danny whispered as they sat down while he 
put on his stockings and shoes. 

“We’re goin' to jes’ take little ride befo' 
breakfas' fo' our health. I see signs dey’s goin’ 
to be sickness 'roun' hyar.” 

That was all Danny could get out of him 
as they tiptoed past Lady Emeline’s wagon 
on their way to the corral. There Bonaparte 
patted the fine head of the black horse Red 
Morgan had ridden the day before. Then he 
swiftly saddled him and slipped on the bridle. 
Danny had doubled his blanket on Dicko's back 
and secured it with a cinch strap. Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar seemed to know that it was no time for 
noise and sniffed about until Danny picked 
him up and set him on Dicko's back. Then 
they let themselves out at the corral gate and 
at a slow walk crossed the little stream and 
made straight for the open prairie. 

“How far are we going?” Danny asked. 

“Yo' see dat big star up yondah? Dat's de 
No'th Star. We’s goin’ to run char away fum 
dat star, Danny. We ain't nevah goin' to wash 
dishes fo’ Lady Emerline, no mo'! We're 
goin’ back to Aunt Mary and Uncle Barney if 
de good Lord is willin' and de coyotes ain't too 
big.” A mile away from the dugout the run¬ 
aways fell into a canter and then a gallop. 

Dicko wasn’t as fast as the black horse, but 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


171 

he could keep up a tireless lope which never 
varied. After two hours’ fast traveling they 
came to a little clump of trees and bushes at 
the headwaters of a small creek. 

“Dis runs into de Arkansas. Can’t miss our 
way now—jes’ keep creek in sight.” Bona¬ 
parte had no sooner spoken than he held up his 
hand to Danny, motioning him to stop. His 
sharp eyes had seen a row of shadowy forms 
outlined on a distant hill. He and Danny were 
well concealed in the thicket of box elder. “Jes’ 
what I ’spected; dey’s Indians—dey’s cornin’ 
fum de wrong way fo’ men fum er caravan. 
Let ’em go by. But I’s sorry for ’em rustlers. 
Dey’s after ’em horses; mos’ likely saw de 
rustlers run ’em off, an’ now’s deir turn to steal 
’em.” 

Danny and Bonaparte waited for half an hour 
until they were sure no more Indians were 
on the way, then, still keeping in the shelter 
of the bushes, they rode on toward the Arkan¬ 
sas and the Santa Fe Trail. 

By and by, where the creek made a wide 
bend, they took to the open prairie again. It 
was growing lighter and in two hours more it 
would be daylight. As they came to the top 
of a rising ground they suddenly heard a bullet 
sing over their heads, followed by the report 
of a rifle. Whirling their horses about, they 
made for a deep gully. 


172 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“Lay flat, liT boy!” called Bonaparte, “same 
as I is.” A swift glance backward showed a 
band of horsemen, rifles in hand, breaking out 
of the timber in the creek bottom. As the pony 
and the big black horse plunged into the gully, 
Bonaparte flung the reins into Danny's hands 
and slipped to the ground. “Dey takes us fo’ 
rustlers, Danny.” Tearing up a long mullen 
stalk, Bonaparte tied the delicate white lace 
handkerchief of Lady Emeline to the end of it 
and crept up out of the gully, holding it aloft. 
“Lady Emeline done leave us a real pretty liT 
flag of truce!” 

When Aunt Mary passed so near the rus¬ 
tlers' camp where Danny and Bonaparte were 
fishing at the rocky ledge it would have taken 
only some little thing to have brought them 
together. If Nebuchadnezzar had strayed out 
on the main trail on one of his rabbit hunts, 
or if Captain Haynes had concluded that this 
was a good place to camp where wood was 
plenty, long weeks of anxiety and grief would 
have been spared her. Barney, too, was heart¬ 
broken over Danny's disappearance, and the 
doctor missed his little pupil. Danny had been 
a great favorite of the drivers Nick and Denis, 
too. 

Columbus Jones recorded in his “Histery” 
an account of the efforts of the party to recover 
the boy and he speculated on paper a great 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


173 


deal as to what Danny was doing all this time. 

Without following Mr. Jones original meth¬ 
od of spelling, his story in part was as follows: 

When I came to after having received a severe gunshot 
wound on the 23rd of June, at 4 P. M., I was told by 
Mrs. Elmore (a lady of great force of character) that we 
had been attacked by horse thieves who had run off our 
animals, captured our negro servant and were pursuing 
Daniel, the ward of our capitalist, Joel Barney, across the 
plains. This brave woman, Mrs. Elmore, with her rifle, 
wounded one of the outlaws and brought down his horse. 
Had it not been for the danger of hitting our negro Bona¬ 
parte or Daniel, she would undoubtedly have routed the 
whole gang of outlaws. All this happened while the Cap¬ 
tain and other members of our expedition were engaged in 
hunting the buffalo (so called—properly the bison) and the 
swift antelope. 

On their return after nightfall, Dr. Sylvester (celebrated 
surgeon of Philadelphia) dressed my wound and remained 
with me while all the others, excepting the driver, Dennis, 
set out in pursuit of the thieves. 

Elsewhere it has been written how they recovered the 
horses, but failed to find Daniel or his pony. To make 
the record complete as to trifles I may state that the dog 
belonging to Daniel, which he had given the singular 
name of Nebuchadnezzar, disappeared on the night Daniel 
was carried off. He in all probability furnished a meal to 
some wandering coyote. 

A second attempt was made to track the outlaws and 
recover the boy Daniel. Their camp was discovered but 
during the night they made good their escape and fording 
the Arkansas disappeared and could not be traced. Nearly 
a month passed and no news of the fate of little Daniel 
was to be had. Signs of Indians on the road and dreadful 


174 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


stories by returning freighters of attacks on small caravans 
determined Captain Haynes to wait for one of the great 
trains which carry provisions to the forts and trading posts 
in Colorado and New Mexico. We at last joined a caravan 
of sixty wagons and advanced westward without incident 
until the 23rd of July, when a band of rustlers stampeded 
twenty horses belonging to the caravan which were grazing 
at a little distance from the corral. One of the raiders had 
a very black beard and when Mrs. Elmore (stalwart lady) 
was told of this she immediately stated her belief that this 
was the band which had stolen little Daniel. 

On a posse of picked men being organized to pursue the 
outlaws this brave woman saddled her best horse, strapped 
on an ammunition belt, and rode out with the others. 
Nothing could keep Mr. Barney from joining the posse 
and- 

Here Mr. Columbus Jones's account ab¬ 
ruptly ends, as several pages of his “Histery” 
have been torn out. 



CHAPTER XVI 


A LL night, after fording the river, Aunt 

** Mary and her companions rode north. 
Next morning they saw horsemen on the 
horizon, but they proved to be a small band of 
Indians on a buffalo hunt, who made off when 
they approached. When night came on they 
camped in a small creek bottom, keeping their 
horses well out of sight in the timber. Two or 
three hours before daylight the men were up 
and Aunt Mary had coffee boiling. Half an 
hour later all were in the saddle, and as they 
rode out of the wood Barney laid his hand 
on the arm of a young man next to him. “Look, 
on the rise yonder!” the dark forms of two 
horsemen stood out against the sky. Without 
waiting to see what or who they were, the 
young man brought his rifle to his shoulder 
and fired. The two horsemen disappeared and 
the posse dashed up the rise after them. 

Aunt Mary, who had a good horse, was 
well to the front. No horses were visible when 
she reached the crest. 

“What’s that white rag waving for? Don’t 
fire; they want to surrender!” 

A coal-black figure jumped to its feet. “Mis’ 
Elmore! Glory halleluja, Miss Elmore! Dan- 


176 DANNY'S PARTNER 

ny! Yo’ Aunt Mary’s come fo’ us. Glory! 
Glory!” 

Then, as Aunt Mary slipped down off her 
horse, Danny clambered out of the gully, fol¬ 
lowed by Nebuchadnezzar. For the second 
time on her journey to the far West tears 
rained down Aunt Mary’s cheeks, but these 
were tears of joy as she clasped the little fellow 
in her arms. Barney had dismounted and was 
stumping about, wiping his eyes, while Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar danced around him, yelping him¬ 
self hoarse. 

Bonaparte was untying Lady Emeline’s lace 
handkerchief from the mullen stalk and trying 
to explain to everybody how they must hurry 
if they wanted to get their horses back. “For 
now,” he said, “de ol’ Injins gwine to steal ’em 
fum de rustlers, shu’ as yo’ bo’n.” 

“Take us to ’em, boy! Let’s be moving.” 

But Aunt Mary had first to thank Bonaparte 
for taking care of Danny all those days and 
bringing him safe to Barney and herself, and 
Barney had to pick Danny up and hold him 
high above his head for a minute while he 
hobbled back to his horse. Then, with Bona¬ 
parte leading the way, they sped up the valley 
toward the dugout. 

“Do you think you marked the way, boy? 
It’s mighty deceiving on these prairies,” spoke 
the captain. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


177 


“Yes, Captain; you jes’ follow dis creek up 
to most de end; den yo’ go kin’ o’ westward 
till yo’ come to er long bluff dat goes fum 
where de sky begin to where him ends.” 

“We’ll see,” said the captain. “That sounds 
pretty much all over the map.” 

When they arrived at the clump of trees 
where Bonaparte and Danny had seen the In¬ 
dians passing a few hours before on their way 
to the dugout, it did not seem quite so plain 
to Bonaparte, but he knew it was to the west¬ 
ward, and away they all went. 

“Looks like we’re running into a prairie fire,” 
some one said as a dull red spot appeared on 
the horizon. 

“It’s er’ ol’ dugout corral a-burnin’. Coyote 
grow’d up into a man an’ set fire to rustlers’ 
home in de mo’nin’.” 

“What’s that black boy mumbling about?” 
asked the captain. 

“I’s sayin’ if we hurry, we get de horses de 
Indians are stealin’ from ‘Red’ Morgan.” 

“Red Morgan! Was it Red Morgan that got 
you? Come on, boys! The darky knows what 
he is talking about. This Morgan is the most 
badly wanted man in Kansas. I hope we’re 
not too late.” 

As the long bluff came in sight flames were 
shooting skyward from the gap and a band of 
fire-crazed Indians were whooping and yelling, 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


178 

all the while circling about a group of horses 
which they were preparing to drive away. 

Danny’s little pony hadn’t been able quite to 
keep up with the last dash of the posse. When 
he arrived at the little stream the Indians were 
being driven off, carrying their wounded with 
them, and the horses almost all recovered. The 
flames were still rising from the burning sheds 
and corral and smoke poured out from the door 
of the dugout. 

“Well,” said Barney, “it’s too bad we got 
here too late to help. They were rustlers and 
just common thieves and cut throats, but we’d 
at least have given ’em a fair fight.” 

“I’s feared Ladv Emeline ’ll nevah miss dat 
lace hank’cher. I’s kin’ o’ sorry for Pinkey, 
though.” Bonaparte was telling Aunt Mary 
about the “flag of truce.” 

“Yes, I’m mighty sorry for Pinkey and I’m 
sorry for Mrs. Emeline, too, because she was 
so wicked.” That was all Danny said as he 
saw the flames licking up the last of the out¬ 
laws’ dwelling place. 

“My boy,” said the captain, “we must be 
sorry they were all so wicked and had to come 
to such a terrible end.” 

Danny was getting very sleepy, but it was 
no time for delay. The Indians might come 
back with reinforcements, and the only thing 
to do was to make straight for the Arkansas 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


179 


with all the speed possible. In a day’s ride 
Dicko could hold his own with the best of them, 
and Danny rode first alongside Aunt Mary and 
then with Barney, for they had, both of them, 
many questions to ask, and so had he. Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar riding horseback made a great hit 
with the captain of the posse. 

‘'What will you take for your trained dog, 
Dannv?” he asked. 

“He wouldn’t live with anyone but me, an’, 
besides, I couldn’t sell him; he belongs to the 
poorhouse. And then, you see, when Aunt 
Mary and me was gypsies an’ got back the 
horses in Illinois he trailed us all night and 
swam a bayou to get to us. An’ when I was 
stolen by Pinkey he trailed me again to the 
camp they had in the 'sink’ by the spring.” 

By nightfall Danny could see the timber in 
the Arkansas bottom land. The caravan had 
made a two days’ journey westward since they 
left it, and the posse crossed the river only 
two miles behind it. As soon as Danny got 
into camp he went straight to the little box 
in Barney’s wagon where he kept his own cake 
of soap. There it was just as he had left it a 
month before. “Come on, Bonaparte, we got 
to be clean before we get in our blankets.” 

“Sho’ly, Danny, can’t we wait till mo’nin’? 
S’awful col’ in er ol’ Arkansas afta’ nightfall.” 

“No, Bonaparte. Stop your shivering. Aunt 


i8o 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Mary ’ll give you a cake of soap. Come on!” 

Once at the river, Danny plunged in, but poor 
Bonaparte stood on the bank and shivered. 
“I done took a bath, Danny, de day we was 
carried off. I war jus’ out of de river when dey 
put me on er horse. Lemme wait till mo’nin’!” 

“All right, Bonaparte. Wait till morning if 
you want to; but you got to sleep in the old 
blanket you brought from the dugout.” 

Danny had never w T orn that suit of clothes 
Barney bought him in Ohio. It was spread 
out on the bank now, and the old poorhouse 
blue jeans was nothing but a mass of rags. 
Danny walked back into camp so clean and 
handsome that Aunt Mary picked him up and 
kissed him. Barney said he guessed he’d have 
to get out his Ohio clothes, too. 

Columbus Jones still wore a patch over his 
right ear. His wound had healed long ago, 
but Columbus felt that it might be forgotten 
if he left off all signs of his terrible fight with 
the rustlers. He had been so dazed by the 
shock when the bullet struck him that he some¬ 
times became mixed as to who shot the outlaw 
and his horse. With his thumb under his lone 
left suspender he came over to Barney’s wagon 
to see Danny. 

Being now a literary man, writing a “His- 
tery,” he felt he must say something which 
would sound as though it came out of a book. 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


181 


“So, you’re safe at last. A Daniel delivered 
out of the den of lions. We live in the midst 
of perils”—here he touched the bandage on 
his head—‘‘but we are destined to go onward 
and develop a great empire!” 

Danny was beginning to nod. He had been 
up since midnight the day before, but he inter¬ 
rupted, in a sleepy voice: “No, Mr. Jones, 
there wasn’t any lions. There was only a 
wicked old woman that called herself Lady 
Emeline, an’ she wasn’t a lady at all, and 
Pinkey and the chief and a wounded man that 
died, and Bonaparte and I buried him and I 
said, ‘Now I lay me down-’ ” 

“He died, Danny? The man I wounded 
died?” Aunt Mary’s voice shook. 

“Yes. He went crazy in the night and 
jumped into the river and got drowned, and 
Mrs. Emeline and the others got his watch an' 
threw dice to see who’d keep it. And Bona¬ 
parte wouldn’t let him stay in the river, and he 
and I dug and dug till we made a grave, and we 
put leaves in it so he would lie easy, and then 
Bonaparte said: ‘You say a little prayer, ’cause 
maybe his mother might ’a’ liked it!’ And I 
didn’t know only the one you taught me, Aunt 
Mary, so I knelt down and said, ‘I lay me down 
to sleep’ . . 

“It’s an awful thing to take a human life.” 
Aunt Mary passed the back of her bronzed 



DANNY’S PARTNER 


182 

hand across her eyes. “But you and Bonaparte 
gave him a Christian burial; for that I shall 
be thankful as long as I live.” 

“He wouldn’t nevah sin no mo’, Missy El¬ 
more, so I say, ‘Le’s send him befo’ de Lord 
with er HT prayer fo’ his po’r soul. Maybe dey 
let him in.’ ” 

Dr. Sylvester rose and looked up at the stars, 
for they were all gathered about the camp fire. 

“Captain Haynes, I think when you picked 
out that black boy in the Lawrence street a 
white soul was added to our caravan.” 

Danny was fast asleep now and Bonaparte 
carried him to Barney’s wagon, took off his 
shoes and his store clothes, and tucked him in 
his soft bunk without waking the tired boy. 
“He done say ‘Now I lay me’ by the fire, an’ I 
guess that ’ll keep him safe to-night.” 

It was not until the next morning that Danny 
realized what a great caravan they had joined. 
As it drew out from camp and wound about the 
river bottom, there seemed no end to the line 
of white-topped wagons. Everybody had 
heard of the boy who had been a prisoner with 
the Red Morgan band of rustlers, and they 
were surprised to see this trim little fellow in 
a clean white cotton shirt, a new red bandana 
around his neck, and a wide-brimmed hat come 
riding by on his pony. Captain Haynes was 
forward beside the wagon master and Danny 


DANNY’S PARTNER 183 

had to ride with them while they asked many 
questions about the outlaws. 

“There was one they called Pinkey. He was 
the best. He wouldn’t let anybody cut me with 
a whip when he was around.” But although 
Danny described him, the wagon master 
couldn’t recognize him. “Most likely he was 
new on the road,” he figured. 

“Then there was the one they called the 
chief. His name was Red Morgan. They were 
all afraid of him.” 

“Yes.” The wagon master and Captain 
Haynes had heard a great deal about him. “He 
was one of the worst men known to the Santa 
Fe Trail. For two years after he escaped from 
prison in Fort Zarah he robbed and plundered 
small caravans, leaving their owners to starve 
or become a prey to Indians. The world is 
well rid of him if he perished in the dugout, 
which seems almost certain.” 

“Then there was a tall man named Long 
Hooker. Bonaparte called him old Shifty 
Eyes.” But Long Hooker was not known to 
the wagon master, either. 

“An’ then there was a wicked old woman 
they called Lady Emeline; but she wasn’t a 
real lady ’cause I saw a really one once who 
used to come to the poorhouse Christmas; and 
I wouldn’t call her Lady Em’line, and when she 
got mad there was a red mark used to come 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


184 

out round her neck under her ear. The worst 
she ever beat me was when I asked her what 
it was.” 

“Lady Emeline! Emeline Sanders, sure as 
night is black. In trouble once with marked 
cards; got tangled up in a rope that was hang¬ 
ing from the limb of a tree at Fort Bent. 
Fighting chaplain cut her down. No, Danny, 
she wouldn't want to be reminded of that 
night." 

“There was one thing none of 'em liked any¬ 
body to say. When old Mrs. Emeline would 
get angry she'd call the others ‘horse thieves' 
and they'd get as mad as anything." 

Then Danny rode back along the line of 
white-topped wagons, which were loaded for 
the most part with barrels of flour and bags of 
dried beans, parched corn, smoked hams and 
dried beef, with sacks of coffee and hogsheads 
of sugar, boxes of harness and boots and shoes. 
One wagon was much larger and heavier than 
the rest and it carried a huge boiler and ma¬ 
chinery to be used in a stamp mill in a New 
Mexico mine. Another carried a great turbine 
water wheel for a mill on the Huerfano River 
in Colorado. Then there was a wagon loaded 
with picks and shovels to be sold to prospectors 
in the mountains. All these to Danny were 
very wonderful and he rode back to where 
Doctor Sylvester, now on horseback and look- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


185 

ing brown and well, kept pace with Barney. 
Danny had long ago discovered that the doctor 
could answer almost all his questions about 
the great world that was unfolding its mys¬ 
teries about him every day. 

“Yes, Danny, if you did but know it you are 
in the midst of an Eastern town put on wheels 
and crossing the great plains on its way to 
the West. 

“Nearly everything you would find in the 
hardware and grocery and dry-goods stores 
of a good-sized town in the East is jogging 
along ahead of you. If we were to stop here 
by the Arkansas River where there is a sharp 
fall, we could start a good-sized village with 
a mill and a dozen stores. We could build 
houses and furnish them and supply farming 
machinery and farmers to use it. No doubt 
there is a lawyer somewhere in the caravan. I 
might do for a physician and Mrs. Elmore 
could run a hotel. Columbus Jones might 
start a newspaper, and we have plenty of horses 
for a livery stable.” 

“I’m glad there wouldn’t be any poorhouse,” 
said Danny, and he and Dicko trotted back 
to where he saw Aunt Mary smiling at him 
from the driver’s seat on her wagon. This 
was the happiest day she had seen for more 
than a month. 

Nebuchadnezzar, who didn’t object to a ride 


i86 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


now and then, sat up alongside of her. He 
knew he was sure of a bone to chew on when 
they went into camp in the evening. 

“Ride back and see how Columbus Jones 
is coming along, Danny.” 

Aunt Mary felt worried about him because 
he was far behind the rest of the caravan that 
morning. 


CHAPTER XVII 


/^OLUMBUS JONES'S wagon looked 
more rickety than ever. It was lightly 
built and only a few patches of a rusty red 
showed that it had ever known paint. The old 
roan horse was holding out pretty well, but 
the other three had a jaded look. 

Columbus himself was a bit less cheerful 
than usual. He was beginning to fear his 
team would not be able to keep up the pace 
set by the supply train. He also knew that 
under his wagon cover there was mighty little 
left in the way of provisions. His flour was 
almost gone and so was his coffee. The bone 
of one smoked ham hung from one of the hoops 
of the cover. Of the great fortune he had 
mentioned in his letter to his brother in St. Joe 
before starting West, just seventy-five dollars 
in gold remained. 

“Daniel, my boy, your old friend Columbus 
Jones finds himself in difficult circumstances 
this morning. Three of my horses are almost 
exhausted and it is impossible to keep up with 
the caravan. A wounded man has no place 
where the wheels of progress revolve so rap¬ 
idly." And Columbus would have continued 

the story of his troubles, but, unfortunately, he 

187 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


188 

had forgotten for the moment where he was 
driving and before Danny could shout a warn¬ 
ing one wheel went down into a deep gully and 
over went his crazy old wagon. It had held 
together almost by a miracle for many hun¬ 
dreds of miles, but now, like the “one-horse 
shay,” it went all to pieces. The half barrel 
of flour Columbus had left spilled out, the ham 
bone tumbled down into the river, an old 
McClellan saddle lodged against a log, a 
wooden chest flew open, the great “Histery,” a 
bundle of moth-eaten clothes, some old daguer¬ 
reotypes, and a high silk hat, relic of his grand¬ 
father, fell out and were scattered over the 
dusty trail. 

Columbus Jones himself was dragged along 
by the horses a few feet from the wreck, but 
his team were only too glad of an excuse to 
stop and Columbus soon scrambled on to his 
feet. 

With his thumb under his one lone suspender 
he stood and contemplated the wreck. 

“HI go and get Barney to come back and 
help fix the wagon, Mr. Jones. Fm awful 
sorry, but Barney can fix it!” And Danny and 
Dicko dashed away after the disappearing 
caravan. 

“Mr. Jones has had a breakdown, Aunt 
Mary, an’ I’m going to get Barney to go back 
and help him.” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 189 

Aunt Mary immediately drew out from the 
road with her wagon, and in another moment 
Barney and Bonaparte, who drove the wagon 
behind him, did the same. Leaving Bonaparte 
in charge of the wagons, Barney and Aunt 
Mary saddled their horses and rode back to 
the wreck. Columbus Jones had hobbled his 
horses and was trying to collect his scattered 
property. On his head, which still carried the 
bandage, he had placed his grandfather’s high 
silk hat, as both hands were busy gathering up 
the old daguerreotypes, the articles of clothing, 
and the precious “Histery.” Only the look 
of concern on Aunt Mary’s face at the tragedy 
which had overtaken their friend prevented 
Barney from indulging in one of his hearty 
laughs; as it was, the sight of Columbus in his 
grandfather’s hat almost caused him to choke. 

A survey of the wagon convinced them all 
that it was a total wreck. The three jaded 
horses, perhaps, might make the next trading 
post with no load to drag, and Columbus could 
ride the roan horse. Aunt Mary would send 
Bonaparte back with his wagon for the chest 
in which she helped Columbus pack up all his 
treasures, including his grandfather’s hat, 
which he would by no means leave behind. 

“I’ve got the soul of a cavalryman,” said 
Columbus Jones when they caught up with 
the caravan late that night, “but I’m not built 


190 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


’zac’ly right for it.” Very gladly he got down 
off the old roan and rested by the fire while 
Aunt Mary and Bonaparte fried flapjacks. 

What Doctor Sylvester called an Eastern 
town on wheels was then only a few miles 
from Bent's Fort, which they reached the next 
night. Here Danny and Bonaparte were taken 
up to see the colonel in command, and to him 
they described Red Morgan with the blackened 
beard, Lady Emeline, Pinkey, and Long 
Hooker. Red Morgan was easily recognized 
from Danny’s description as an escaped pris¬ 
oner from Fort Zarah, an old and hardened 
outlaw. Pinkey no one knew. Hooker was 
identified as a rum-runner by the name of 
Hackett, who was known as a man who had 
sold bad whisky to Indians for years. Shifty 
eves and manner, the fact that he had a hidden 
dugout, all pointed to the man Hackett. Lady 
Emeline seemed to fit the description of the 
Emeline Sanders who so narrowly escaped 
hanging by a mob years before, but the colonel 
wasn’t sure. 

“Maybe dis-all show who de Lady Emline 
war,” and Bonaparte held up the dainty lace 
handkerchief on which were very rudely 
stitched in red silk the initials “E. S.” The 
colonel looked at it. 

“Yes, that shows it plainly enough, and it 
shows that the handkerchief was stolen. Those 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


191 

roughly stitched initials were never on the 
handkerchief when the owner carried it. I 
suppose, boy, you want to keep this as a sou¬ 
venir.” 

“I’s like to keep it, Colonel, ’cause it saved 
our lives. We make flag of truce out er dis on 
er ol’ mullen stalk when our fren’s firin’ at us.” 

“Well, we are certainly obliged to you and 
little Danny for giving us the news that these 
dangerous people are no longer a menace.” 

“I always knew Mrs. Emeline wasn’t really 
a lady, sir,” said Danny. “I saw a real lady 
once on Christmas at the poorhouse.” 

From Fort Bent the great part of the cara¬ 
van took the trail for Santa Fe. A few wagons 
remained at the fort and half a dozen supply 
wagons took the northerly route to the Ute 
Pass. A stage was running from the fort to 
Denver once a week, and one hot August day 
when the air seemed to dance and dazzle the 
eyes, Bonaparte and Danny saw a cloud of 
dust rising to the northward. It was the Den¬ 
ver stage, and as it drew near it looked like 
something unreal, like the ghost of some 
departed stagecoach of the past. Horses, 
driver, passengers and coach were all one pale- 
gray color. The alkali dust had covered alike 
the red shirt of an old miner seated on top of 
the coach and the gay bonnet of the colonel’s 
wife, who had been away on a visit. A couple 


192 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


of long arrows sticking in the leather boot told 
that their journey had not been without its 
dangers. 

Captain Haynes, the doctor, and Barney had 
waited over at the fort for some days for the 
caravan going north. They felt it would be 
foolhardy to go on by themselves. The In¬ 
dians—Comanches on the plains and Utes in 
the mountains—had not been very active that 
summer, but they were as uncertain as the 
winds or the cloudbursts, and were likely to 
descend on a small caravan at any moment. 

Bonaparte edged up to the team when the 
stage halted inside. Through the alkali dust 
a tiny red streak marked the shoulder of one 
of the horses. The driver, stamping the circu¬ 
lation back into his cramped feet and shaking 
the dust from his wide-brimmed hat, came for¬ 
ward and examined the wound. 

“If that arrow had struck a foot further 
back, my dusky friend, the colonel would never 
have seen his lady again. At the pace we was 
goin’, if that horse had fallen, the old Concord 
would have upset sure. First Injuns we had 
seen, an’ only twenty miles from the fort.” 

When the six wagons of the supply train 
and Captain Haynes’s party, with six more, 
left the fort early one morning for the north, 
the commanding officer sent with them a small 
troop of cavalry to see them through the first 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


193 


fifty miles of their journey. Danny and his 
dog, Nebuchadnezzar, were a never-ending 
source of joy to these men. The sight of this 
little dog sitting up behind Danny on his saddle 
blanket was enough to make any trooper laugh; 
but when they learned his name and that he 
really belonged to the poorfarm at Bankville, 
Ohio, and that Danny had only borrowed him, 
they offered to all “chip in” enough money to 
clear Danny’s title from any claim of the poor- 
house. 

But Danny said Uncle Barney thought the 
supervisors of the poor of Bankville would 
never come after him now, they were so far 
away. The only person in the caravan who 
failed to hold Nebuchadnezzar at his true 
worth was Columbus Jones. There was some¬ 
thing in Columbus’s voice which seemed to jar 
on Nebuchadnezzar’s ear, and whenever Mr. 
Jones got well started reading the latest addi¬ 
tion to his “Histery” at the camp fire, Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar would interrupt with a sad and 
weary whine that grew louder as the reading 
continued. 

The presence of the troopers for the first 
two days must have frightened off any Indians 
who might have been hovering about the trail; 
and on the morning of the third day out the 
old sergeant in command bade Captain Haynes 
good-by and returned to the fort. 


194 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


It was a hot dusty ride now over the plains 
for a good many days. Water was scarce, 
grass grew only in bunches, rocky ledges began 
cropping out, and always they were climbing 
up one hill after another. But through the hot 
shimmering air, beckoning them on, the great 
mountain peak that guided Zebulon Pike 
westward across the plains for many days fifty 
years before, could be seen beyond the most 
distant hill. At last one night they made camp 
in the shadow of the great mountain. Captain 
Haynes corralled the wagons beside a pretty 
brook of clear cold water from the heights 
above. Tall pines towered over them and along 
the brook grew willow bushes. 

Columbus Jones had sold his three tired 
horses at Fort Bent for one hundred dollars, 
and for the first two days rode his old roan 
horse, leaving his wooden chest containing all 
his valuables in Aunt Mary’s wagon. 

But “the soul of a cavalryman” was not quite 
all that was needed to keep a fat man on horse¬ 
back for a long journey, and when the caravan 
made camp on the stream under the pines the 
old roan was helping haul Aunt Mary’s wagon 
and Columbus occupied a comfortable seat 
beside the lady. 

Before making the steep ascent through the 
Ute Pass, several days were spent overhauling 
the wagons, fitting iron “shoes” with chains to 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


i95 


the forward frame so that in going down moun¬ 
tain sides the hind wheels would set in a shoe 
and slide instead of turn. Pieces of wood six 
or seven feet long and four inches thick, 
pointed at one end, were fastened loosely to 
the hind axles and allowed to drag on the road¬ 
way, so that if the horses gave out suddenly 
on a long pull up the hill the sharp ends would 
stick in the ground and prevent the wagon 
from running backward. 

While this work was going on an elderly man 
with a long gray beard and a very weather¬ 
beaten high hat which looked like the mate to 
the one in Columbus Jones’s chest drove into 
camp on a buckboard. He was a very heavy 
man and his weight had bowed the buckboard 
down until it almost touched the ground. All 
his camp outfit was piled on the back of a mule 
who patiently followed behind. 

The old gentleman had a very bland and 
benevolent face and proceeded to make himself 
at home at once. He took off his hat to Aunt 
Mary with such a low bow that she wondered 
if he would be able to straighten up again. He 
patted Danny on the head and then went over 
to where Columbus Jones was watching Barney 
shoe his old roan horse. This stout old gentle¬ 
man was too wise to talk to a busy man. He 
glanced at the three-cornered patch on the 
back of Mr. Jones’ butternut trousers, he looked 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


196 

at Barney’s wooden leg and at his capable 
hands. He glanced across at Doctor Sylvester 
and Captain Haynes, who had just brought out 
one of General Fremont’s maps and were bend¬ 
ing over it, and, without asking a question, he 
made up his mind that here was the kind of a 
caravan going up into the mining country such 
as he had been hoping to join. 

Rightly picking out Captain Haynes as 
leader of the party, he begged the privilege of 
spending the night in camp with them. It was 
getting late and it would be hardly possible 
to go farther. His name, he said, was Amias 
Fairway. At the camp fire that evening Danny 
listened open-mouthed as the old gentleman 
told of the mines in Calaveras and Virginia 
City, of pearl diving in South Seas, and of 
ivory hunting and diamond digging in Africa. 
All his talk was of fabulous wealth, and under 
the magic of his tongue his old linen duster and 
his battered silk hat were forgotten. The 
sparks from the camp fire seemed to rise in 
dazzling showers of gold. 

Columbus Jones was ready to start at day¬ 
light for the mountains of gold that must lie 
just back of Pike’s Peak at furtherest. But 
the old gentleman was not paying much heed 
to Mr. Jones. Columbus had never spent a 
whole evening at the camp fire without being 



THE GOSPEL OF GOLD 
















DANNY’S PARTNER 


197 


heard, and when the old gentleman paused to 
take breath his turn came. 

“It would seem, sir, that you have had some 
experience in mining. Perhaps it is provi¬ 
dential that you appeared amongst us at this 
time. Mr. Barney, there, is owner of some 
mountain or mountains to the west of this 
point, believed to contain gold and silver ore. 
We are, or at least some of us are, on our way 
to develop this great property. Your knowl¬ 
edge of the practical side of mining may be of 
great value to us.” 

Barney had been quietly smoking his pipe 
over in the shadow. He did not object to 
Columbus building up his castles in Colorado 
when there were no strangers around to hear it. 

“My friend, Columbus Jones, likes to have 
his little joke about my property in Colorado, 
Mr. Fairway. The fact is it may be just noth¬ 
ing at all. I wanted to see the mining country 
—that’s what brings Danny and me out here.” 

“And you will use your other resources to 
make your way, yours and Danny’s, out here, 
Mr. Barney?” The old gentleman was polite. 
He wished to show an interest in Mr. Barney. 



Chapter xviii 


TN two more days all the wagons were in 
■“* repair. Where an iron brace was needed 
or a tire set, Barney was blacksmith enough 
to make and fit it. He overhauled the old 
gentleman’s buckboard, for Mr. Fairway 
seemed to have become a part of the caravan 
by common consent. How it came about they 
never knew, but a change was coming over 
them all. 

In crossing the plains, Danny’s disappear¬ 
ance, the constant danger from rustlers and 
Indians, and the hardships of travel kept them 
too busy to think of gold—of riches. Now 
every one save Bonaparte and Danny talked 
of gold—gold. 

Every night around the fire—and there was 
plenty of wood now—the old gentleman, his 
pink and childlike face glowing in the light, 
would stroke his long beard with one hand 
while he waved his high hat about with the 
other and in never-ending flow his gospel of 
gold—gold, rolled on. 

The six supply wagons which were with 
them when they left Fort Bent quitted them at 
the top of the Ute Pass. Their teams were 

198 



DANNY’S PARTNER 


199 


fresher and they could not afford to hold back. 
For days Captain Haynes kept his little cara¬ 
van going; but the road was hardly more than 
a trail and often ropes had to be warped about 
trees and fastened to the back axles of the 
wagons to let them down the steepest places. 

On one of these hills Danny and Mr. Amias 
Fairway had made the descent safely, but the 
wagons had to be held back by ropes. The 
road, just wide enough for one wagon, ran 
around the mountainside, and as Danny looked 
down over the edge he could see a little creek 
winding like a silver snake a thousand feet 
below. 

He looked back; all the wagons had passed 
the worst grade except Barney’s, which was 
halfway down. Then a rope parted. The 
heavy wagon broke away and came crashing 
down into Captain Haynes’s wagon, overturn¬ 
ing it. Both rolled over the cliff and with a 
noise like thunder were dashed to pieces on 
the rocks below. Barney’s horses had been 
taken off the wagon and escaped, but the cap¬ 
tain’s went with the wagon and were instantly 
killed. 

Danny was close by as Denis, the captain’s 
driver, was thrown from his seat and lay uncon¬ 
scious on the very edge of the cliff. Now was 
the time to make use of the lariat he had prac¬ 
ticed with many times on the plains; and 


200 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Danny made a careful throw while Dicko held 
back. It was just in time, for Denis was slip¬ 
ping and the lariat caught him around the 
shoulders. Dicko stood firm, and Bonaparte, 
who came running up, dragged Denis back to 
safety. 

With two wagons in splinters a thousand 
feet below, it was necessary to double up. 
Danny had lost his fine bed and his blankets, 
but Aunt Mary had a place for him in her 
wagon. 

“I wouldn’t mind so much if I had not lost 
all my blacksmith’s tools. Lucky Mrs. Elmore 
borrowed my hammer and saw this morning.” 
Barney was stumping about on his wooden 
leg, patting first one horse and then another, 
happy at least that the poor animals had 
escaped destruction. 

Columbus Jones put his thumb under his 
lone suspender and hitched up his butternut 
trousers. For once he had no suggestions to 
offer, but Mr. Amias Fairway felt that now 
was the time to talk of gold. 

“My good friends, this looks like the hill of 
disaster, but believe an old man who has been 
through it all before; at the foot of this moun¬ 
tain, in yonder silver stream, you will take out 
gold enough to pay for your losses many times 
over. It will be an easy matter to go back 
under the foot of the cliff and recover Barney’s 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


201 


tools; and from the wreck of your wagon 
‘cradles’ or ‘rockers/ and a sluice box can be 
made worth twice what the wagon cost. I have 
seen a ‘cradle’ sold at auction for two hundred 
dollars. Come, then, let us go down into the 
valley and turn our wrecks into gold!” 

The old gentleman in his linen duster, white 
beard flowing in the breeze, seemed to them all 
like a prophet about to lead them into the prom¬ 
ised land. Mr. Amias Fairway stepped back to 
his buckboard and, followed by his faithful 
pack mule, led the way down the mountain. 

Captain Haynes, who now had only his 
saddle horse left, rode up and down the valley 
until he located a low fall in the stream. Just 
below it he ranged the wagons, backing two 
of them against a wall of rock a couple of 
wagon lengths apart, and placing the third 
across in front. This gave some protection 
and with a fire in the center made a com¬ 
fortable camp. 

Danny on Dicko’s back and Bonaparte on 
one of Barney’s horses then followed along the 
foot of the mountain back to where the wagons 
had fallen from the cliff. 

“De cap’n’s horses never knew what kill ’em, 
Danny. Dese yerebig rocks no sof’ bed to 
fall on.” 

“There’s the side of Uncle Barney’s wagon, 
Bonaparte. See the name he had painted on 


202 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


it ‘Blue Jeans/ and there's two of the wheels 
way out in the creek. Uncle Barney said to get 
all the iron there was and all the boards to¬ 
gether, and to look for his tool box." 

“Dose is de front wheels down in er liT creek. 
Look, Danny! Dey's still on de axle and here's 
an ol' harness outen Marse Barney's wagon. 
Come on, we pull er wheels outen de water an' 
make a two-wheel cart an' take boa'ds and 
everything." 

Under the wreckage of Barney's wagon they 
found what was left of the tool box, and scat¬ 
tered about for many yards were his hammer 
and wrench, his brace and bit, and blacksmith's 
tools. A keg of nails had burst like a bomb¬ 
shell. Danny found a gunny bag and gathered 
together all the nails, bolts, and screws he could 
find. Then Bonaparte cut two saplings for 
shafts and he and Danny made a rude cart out 
of parts of the wagon beds and the two wheels. 
This took nearly all day. 

They loaded on it all the best boards from 
the wrecked wagons, the tires from the broken 
wheels, and every scrap of iron they could 
break loose, as well as the tools. 

Bonaparte hitched up his horse and he and 
Danny rode into camp, Dicko following, very 
much disgusted, at the end of a halter strap. 

With the aid of Mr. Amias Fairway, who 
had panned and cradled on many a stream 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


203 

before, they picked out a place to put in a short 
sluice. 

Nicholas and Denis had spent the afternoon 
hunting and came in with nearly a dozen moun¬ 
tain quail which made everyone dislike dried 
buffalo meat for days after. 

This was one of the nights that Danny 
remembered long afterward. They all sat in 
front of a roaring fire, with their backs to the 
great rock. Aunt Mary had a gay patchwork 
quilt about her shoulders and Danny sat close 
beside her, with Nebuchadnezzar snuggled 
against his knee. 

‘‘To-morrow we begin to mend our broken 
fortunes. The future holds before us golden 
promises.” Columbus Jones had spent most of 
the afternoon writing in his “Histery” and he 
felt that he must give out a few great thoughts 
before Mr. Amias Fairway got started. “All 
our hardships and dangers will soon be for¬ 
gotten as we bask in fortune’s—” Here Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar set up a pitiful whine and poor 
Columbus was unable to finish. 

Mr. Fairway stroked his long gray beard 
and waved his high hat gently back and forth. 
“Mr. Columbus Jones has not overstated the 
case. To-morrow for the first time you will 
take gold from the virgin soil. You will reap 
where you have not sown. Nature has been 
storing up untold wealth for countless ages; 


204 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


to-morrow you begin to recover her treasures.” 
Like a religion the bland old gentleman 
preached the thirst for gold. 

From Barney to Captain Haynes and Doctor 
Sylvester, he had everyone in camp eager for 
daylight to come so that they might begin 
work. Only one member of the party failed to 
catch this terrible fever for gold. 

“GoT and silver an’ dat ar wealth him always 
talkin’ about all right fo’ white folks, but, 
Danny, jus’ look up at ol’ mountains hangin’ 
up in de sky all ’roun’; and great big stars 
dropped way down low raight ovah yo’ haid. 
When yo’ see dark cloud an’ hear de thunder 
way down below yo’, black folks don’ think 
about gol’ and silver. Time for poor nigger 
get down on his knees. Maybe liT white boys 
fo’get ’bout ‘untol’ wealth’ when he hear dem 
chariots roll.” Bonaparte and Danny had gone 
out of the little corral to fetch in the horses 
and secure them for the night. Out there 
under the stars, with the ghostly shapes of the 
mountains towering above him, the simple 
words of the black boy seemed to come like a 
breath of cool air after the fever that raged 
about the camp fire. 

Before the sun was up next morning, Barney 
was busy making a rocker under the guidance 
of Amias Fairway. Bonaparte and Danny 
made another expedition to the wrecked 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


205 


wagons to bring back what harness they could 
rescue from the fallen team and to secure what 
stores there were still fit for use. As they 
approached, a tremendous flapping of wings 
was to be seen, and buzzards, hundreds of 
them, were in possession and refused to leave 
their quarry while a bone remained unpicked. 

Carefully rolled in an old blanket, Bonaparte 
found Captain Haynes’s field glasses in perfect 
order. Danny had gone a few hundred yards 
farther along the foot of the cliff, where he 
thought he saw something shining. It proved 
to be an old tin bucket. But scattered about 
were the remains of another wrecked wagon, 
which must have fallen over the cliff weeks 
before their own disaster. 

Excepting a few polished bones, not a ves¬ 
tige remained of the animals which had drawn 
it. Everything lay just as it had fallen. There 
were pick handles and pick-axes, shovels, a box 
of candles, and many boxes and bags of spoiled 
provisions. A short narrow box had fallen 
into a bush. Danny was curious to know what 
was in it. There were hinges on one side and 
a catch on the other. Danny opened it, and 
inside found a leather case fastened with a 
strap at one end. Unbuckling this, Danny 
drew out a carbine, just such a one as Pinkey 
had carried, and down in the end of the wooden 
box was a belt and ammunition. 


206 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


It took Danny a very short time to strap the 
belt about his waist, hang the leather holster 
from his saddle, and, with the carbine over his 
shoulder, to gallop back to where Bonaparte 
was busy making a pack of the things he had 
secured from the wreck. 

“Look’ee, Bonaparte, what I found! A 
really gun, a breech loader. Now I can go 
hunting with you.” 

“Guess de camp ’ll need us fo’ hunters. Dey 
all gone crazy aftah gob! Marse Haynes don’ 
eat hardly moufful of breakfus. And Mr. Bar¬ 
ney saw an’ saw de ob wagon bed to pieces to 
make ’em rocker. Dey fo’gets flour gittin’ 
low. Lots spill when wagons fall. All dat old 
buckboa’d man ’low em think about is gold— 
gold—gold!” 


CHAPTER XIX 


A L . L day long Barney worked at building 
his “rocker,” old Amias superintending 
the job from a seat in the shade of a convenient 
tree. The other members of the party were 
off with wash basins, dishpans, shovels, and 
picks on the gravel bed below camp—all except 
Danny and Bonaparte, who were out after 
antelope, hoping that one of those beautiful 
animals would allow himself to be stalked, and 
Columbus Jones. 

Columbus had decided it was better to learn, 
by watching Barney, how a rocker was put 
together and all about the mysteries of a sluice 
box, rather than to go out and dig in a gravel 
bed under the blistering sun. It also occurred 
to him to offer suggestions for improvement 
from time to time, but these were not very 
kindly received by Barney or old Amias. Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar, who had been tied up to prevent 
his following the hunters, and felt very peevish 
in consequence, interrupted whenever Colum¬ 
bus tried to speak. 

There was nothing to do then except to find 

a comfortable place in the shade and get out 

his ledger, his ink bottle, and his quill pen and 

207 



208 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


continue writing his “Histery,” from which 
the following is an extract: 

All day long in the broiling sun we wielded our picks 
and shovels on the arid gravel bed. Our expert adviser, 
Mr. Amias Fairway, had instructed us to dig until we 
came to a bluish clay or a bed of black sand. With blistered 
hands that remarkable woman, Mrs. Mary Elmore, was the 
first to strike blue clay. There was great excitement, we 
dropped our instruments of toil and crowded about the 
hole she had dug in the gravel. A bucket was filled with 
the clay and Mrs. Elmore knelt down by the river with a 
dishpan filled with water and dirt and skillfully whirled 
the blue clay away, leaving a black sand at the bottom. 
Imagine our feelings when, looking over her shoulder, we 
saw specks of “color” in the pan. Captain Haynes, the 
quietest man in our company, gave an Indian yell that 
was taken up and echoed by Dr. Sylvester. Mr. Barney 
up in the camp dropped his hammer and with Mr. Amias 
Fairway and another member of the party who had been 
suffering from an old wound and was taking a much- 
needed rest, hurried to the river. In a few minutes picks 
and shovels were going furiously: even the venerable 
Amias Fairway, whose high hat and long flowing beard 
made him a conspicuous object on the fiat, was wielding a 
pick. 

No lunch was cooked that day. At about two in the 
afternoon the mining party withdrew to the shade of some 
willows and munched a few hard crackers which Mrs. 

1 

Elmore had brought along. Then all afternoon they dug 
and panned. 

Here Mr. Jones’s entry in his “Histery” for 
that day ends. 

j 

When the party returned with the day’s pay 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


209 


sand in a bucket ready to be dried out, Colum¬ 
bus Jones, his “Histery” across his knees, was 
fast asleep. The fire was out and no wood 
gathered for the camp fire. Nebuchadnezzar, 
whining pitifully, tugged at the end of his 
tether. Barney was just driving the last nail 
in his rocker, and Danny and Bonaparte had 
not yet returned. 

For the first time since the expedition had 
left Bucks County, Pennsylvania, Mrs. Elmore 
spoke sharply to Columbus Jones. Much be¬ 
wildered, that worthy rose from his slumber^ 
and, putting his thumb under his lone sus¬ 
pender, looked so forlorn and helpless that 
Aunt Mary instantly relented and proceeded 
to gather up the splinters from Barney’s car¬ 
pentering and build up a fire. Captain Haynes 
and the doctor, with Denis and Nick, brought 
in a supply of wood, and Columbus fetched 
water from the river. 

It was long after dark when Aunt Mary and 
Columbus gave the call for dinner. No one 
ate very heartily. All minds were fixed on the 
black sand drying by the fire. 

So absorbed were they that it was not until 
the dried sand had been placed in a basin and 
Columbus given the job of blowing away the 
dust, that Barney looked over at Aunt Mary. 

“Where do you s’pose those boys are, Mrs. 
Elmore?” 


210 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


Nobody had thought of Danny and Bona¬ 
parte, for that night they were all suffering 
from their first violent attack of “gold fever/' 
which makes enemies of old friends, makes 
children forget their parents and mothers their 
sons. Even now only Aunt Mary and Barney 
were seriously alarmed, and the others watched 
Columbus blow until all that was left in the 
bottom of the pan was a tiny round pile of 
shining metal. 

“A good clean-up for a first day, gentlemen. 
You probably lost more than half your ‘color' 
in the panning." Old Amias beamed benevo¬ 
lently on them all. 

Barney had stirred up the fire while the rest 
were examining the “clean-up." “We will keep 
this going so they can find camp, and I’m going 
to fire my gun every little while." 

“And I will keep the coffee near the fire. 
They'll be famished and it's bitter cold in 
these mountains." Aunt Mary at least had for¬ 
gotten gold for this night. 

When Danny and Bonaparte saw the sun 
go down behind the great range they had not 
yet managed to get a shot at deer or antelope. 
They had climbed up a canon which seemed to 
lead from the little “park" where their camp 
lay, over into South Park, and now they started 
to retrace their steps. On coming around a 
great rock Danny's heart seemed to stand still 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


211 


as he saw, across the little brook which tumbled 
and gurgled its way down the canon, a beauti¬ 
ful antelope buck and his mate. The animals 
were not fifty yards away and in their surprise 
stood motionless. Bonaparte, who was just 
behind Danny, fired instantly and brought 
down the buck. Danny fired immediately after, 
but the smaller animal with marvelous speed 
was many feet away when his bullet flattened 
on the rocks. 

Bonaparte cut down a sapling with his hunt¬ 
ing knife and swung the antelope from it by 
its dainty feet. With their burden divided 
between them they then set out for the camp. 

But traveling down a canon after sundown 
was far from easy, and by and by it became so 
dark that Danny could not see the burden they 
were carrying. He could feel Bonaparte stum¬ 
bling over bowlders and tree roots at the 
other end of the sapling, but could see nothing 
except an occasional glimpse of a bright star 
which seemed to hang just above the towering 
pines. 

By and by they came to a place where for 
a few yards the ground was flat. 

“Danny, has you got any matches? ’Cos 
we got to stay right here. We can’t fin’ our 
way to camp an’ we may fall off er ol’ cliff.” 

Danny found three or four matches in his 
pockets. They gathered a few sticks and some 


212 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


dry grass in the dark, and then Danny tried 
one of his matches. It lighted, but the head 
flew off. Then he tried another. It failed to 
light. 

“Don’t throw it away. Give it to me; I make 
him light,” and Bonaparte rubbed the match 
gently against the back of his wooly head, then 
he struck it and, flash, it burned brightly. The 
dry grass caught and flared up, the sticks took 
up the Are, and Bonaparte heaved a sigh of sat¬ 
isfaction. 

“Now we make liT camp soon as fire get 
big enough to show where to pitch him. Un¬ 
wind dat ol’ lariat fum ’roun’ yo’ waist, Danny, 
an’ we’ll hoist de antelope up outer reach of 
bad animals.” 

The next thing to do was to tear down 
boughs for a windbreak. These they piled on 
each side of a great pine. Firewood was plenty 
and with the tree at their backs they prepared 
to spend the night. Sleep was impossible, for 
it was bitter cold and they had to get up and 
replenish the fire every little while. 

Toward morning they both dozed a little 
and Danny was awakened by a strange wild cry 
back in the canon which sounded like the wail¬ 
ing of a child. A second time came the cry, 
and this wakened Bonaparte. He grasped his 
gum 

“Soun’s like er ol’ mountain lion. Dere he 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


213 


is!” A long gray shape was stealing along 
through the pines above them. “Dey say ’ems 
awful cowards, but maybe disa one don’t know 
it. We’ll see in a minute,” and Bonaparte took 
a quick aim and fired. The gray shape disap¬ 
peared as the report echoed and re-echoed 
through the canon. “I’s mighty glad he’s gone. 
Maybe dem lions ’s cowards, but Fs jes’ liT 
dat way myse’f.” 

Morning came and the sun shone as warmly 
as the night had been cold. 

“Guess we take liT nap, Danny, den look fo’ 
camp.” 

For an hour they slept peacefully and then 
headed, as they supposed, for the camp, but 
when they reached the valley it looked different 
from the valley of yesterday. However, they 
trudged on, the antelope becoming heavier at 
every step. Bonaparte held up his hand. 

“Listen, Danny, somebody shootin’ ol’ rifle.” 

Danny was on his feet in a moment and a 
shot from his little carbine rang out. It was 
answered by a report nearer than the first, and 
soon Barney on horseback broke through some 
elder bushes with a great shout. 

“Where are you going, you young rascals? 
You’ve had us ’most scared to death all night 
and now you’re going straight away from 
camp.” 


214 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“We got some meat for you, Uncle Barney, 
an’ we'll let you carry it home." 

It didn't take long to swing the antelope 
buck across Uncle Barney’s horse, and before 
noon the hunters were back in camp. Only 
Aunt Mary came up from the gravel flat to 
greet them. Even Columbus was down at the 
sluice, rocking Barney’s cradle, and the old 
high hat of Amias was bobbing up and down 
over his flowing white beard as the old gentle¬ 
man swung a pick. For a few hours he had 
relapsed into the ancient “gold fever" which 
he himself had spread among these new people. 

Four weeks of drifting on the gravel bed, 
digging, cradling, panning, going crazy when 
a nugget as big as a hazelnut showed in the 
clean-up. Even Columbus put in two or three 
hours’ work now nearly every day, and while 
Barney, the two drivers, Aunt Mary, and Cap¬ 
tain Havnes worked ten and twelve hours a 
day and only now and then took out more than 
a little flake gold, Columbus, after an hour’s 
digging on his second day, found a nugget the 
size of a hen's egg. 

To be sure, that was about all he ever did 
take out in the four weeks, but his one strike 
kept all his comrades at work in the hot sun 
every day until old Amias Fairway called Doc¬ 
tor Sylvester aside one night. 

“Doctor," he said, “have you figured how 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


215 


you're going to get over to the store in Cali¬ 
fornia Gulch on the provisions you've got left? 
Perhaps you had better talk to the captain." 

The next morning the doctor, Barney, and 
Captain Haynes took stock of their provisions; 
and after they had looked through them, all 
three walked a little way from the camp to 
talk the matter over. The captain was the 
first to speak. 

“It looks to me as though we had lost our 
heads. As captain of this outfit I ought to 
have kept track of things, but I admit right 
here, that I haven't thought of anything but 
that nugget of Columbus Jones's in a month." 

“We're all to blame, Captain. As a physi¬ 
cian I ought to have thought of the health of 
the company, and if we have to travel to the 
Gulch on short rations some one is pretty sure 
to fall sick." The doctor looked unhappy. 

Then Barney spoke up: “Captain, there's 
only two people in this camp that have held 
on to their good common sense. Many times 
I've asked Bonaparte to try his hand at the 
gravel and see if he could make a strike, but he 
always said he and Danny must get meat, and 
what the two of 'em's brought in and dried is 
about all we'll have till we get to the Gulch." 

At the camp fire that night Amias sat alter¬ 
nately brushing the nap of his old high hat and 
stroking his long white beard. 


216 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“You have all now seen the color of gold, 
my friends, but you are like the poor man who 
sat at the gate and only got the crumbs from 
the rich man’s table. What you want to do 
now is to get to the table itself. In other words, 
this little dust you gathered by such hard labor 

comes from a mother lode. Get on to Cali- 

\ 

fornia Gulch, where real mines are being dis¬ 
covered every day. Put your money in combi¬ 
nation with that of men of repute who are 
opening them up. In a day you are likely to 
make more than a year will bring you gather¬ 
ing crumbs on the flat. ,, 

Early the next morning Barney dismantled 
his rocker and loaded the principal parts of 
it in Bonaparte’s wagon. 

“Danny, it looks like dese white folks gettiiT 
tired workin’ like de black folks usen to befo’ 
de war. Nobody say nothin’, but all get’n’ 
ready to move on.” 

Bonaparte was right. Nobody said a word 
about breaking camp, but harness was being 
mended and wagons reloaded. Amias was 
soaking the wheels of his buckboard in the 
stream and Columbus was busy writing the last 
entries in regard to the great Jones nugget in 
his “Histery.” Nobody could say his nugget 
was a “crumb.” 

On the day following, the little caravan 
crossed the river and started on its way to 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


217 


the Gulch. Denis now drove Bonaparte’s 
wagon. The young negro was of more use as 
a hunter and as they were now on a road which 
was pretty well marked, he and Danny made 
many side trips in the mountains looking for 
deer and usually caught up with the wagons 
before dark. 

One evening at dusk, as they were hurrying 
to reach camp after a hard day’s ride without 
having sighted any game, Danny thought he 
saw something moving in the bushes alongside 
the road. He raised his carbine. A dark object 
could be seen moving, but it was impossible 
to tell what it might be in the uncertain light. 

“Do you s’pose it’s a bear, Bonaparte?” 

“I don’t know, but it’s coming right at us 
fru de bushes. Get yo’ gun ready.” And then 
the two hunters burst out laughing. It was 
a little young burro and it ran up to Danny 
and rubbed its nose against his leg. All the 
way to the camp the little donkey followed 
them. It would not be chased away, but 
insisted on making friends with Barney and 
Aunt Mary. From that night on the burro 
became one of the company. Barney named 
him “Kokomo” after a town they had passed 
through in Indiana. 

The last week of the journey into California 
Gulch was over a great range of mountains, 
the roughest and most dangerous road they 


2 l 8 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


had yet encountered. Early one morning*, 
after camping on a great cliff where the wind 
blew a gale all night long and the cold was 
bitter, they were glad to make an early start. 

Denis’s wagon was in the lead and the road 
led along the edge of a frightful precipice. 
Great snow banks lay in the gullies, where the 
sun reached them for only part of the day. 
Ice formed in the wagon tracks and just ahead 
of them the road took a sudden downward 
plunge, with a sharp curve at the bottom of 
the grade. Denis was a careful driver and 
before making the descent he dropped the iron 
“shoe” down on the end of its chain and let one 
of the hind wheels run into it so that it could 
not turn on the axle. Nebuchadnezzar was 
stealing a ride with Denis that morning. The 
little dog seemed to scent danger, and he 
nestled up close to the driver and whimpered 
as they prepared to take the steep grade. Denis 
gathered up the reins and put all his weight on 
the stiff brake which held the wheel opposite 
the “shoe.” Then they started down. On the 
steepest place in the descent neither brake nor 
shoe could hold back the heavy wagon and 
the horses were forced into a run as they 
approached the curve. 

Swinging around a great shoulder of the 
mountain, Denis, to his dismay, saw ahead of 
him a roadway of shelving rock which slanted 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


219 


toward the edge of the cliff and over which a 
thin sheet of ice had formed in the night. The 
iron shoe which before had helped retard the 
wagon, now only added to its speed. Denis 
made a desperate attempt to drive his wagon 
head on against a large rock which stood out 
on the edge of the cliff. He felt that even if 
it broke the neck of one of his horses, the others 
might be saved. But before the leader reached 
it the wagon gave a great lurch on the slipping 
rocks and toppled over on its side, dragging 
the wheel horses with it over the cliff. Just as 
it went over the wagon tongue broke in two on 
the jagged rocks and the two horses in the 
lead were saved. Denis stuck to his wagon 
until he felt it going over and then jumped to 
safety. Nebuchadnezzar made a flying leap 
and landed close behind him as Denis ran for¬ 
ward and led the two trembling horses to a 
more secure footing. 

Danny had watched the descent of the wagon 
from the top of the grade, but lost sight of it 
when it swung around the curve. Hardly a 
moment had passed before he heard the omi¬ 
nous sounds of the falling wagon being ground 
to pieces on the rocks a thousand feet below. 
Dicko had learned to be almost as sure footed 
as the little burro Kokomo, and soon carried 
Danny to the foot of the grade. 

Leaning against the great rock on the edge 


220 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


of the cliff, Danny saw Denis looking very 
faint. Beside him were the two horses huddled 
together and Nebuchadnezzar, whining and 
looking up at Denis as though he wanted to 
ask what it was all about. 

“Get back up the grade, Danny, and stop 
the other wagons. Tell ’em to wait Til the sun 
gets around and melts the ice.” 

As Danny, followed by the badly frightened 
little dog, started back to give warning to the 
other wagons, Denis stood looking down at 
the great gulf below. “If I could only have 
got the wagon up against this rock I could have 
saved it and the poor horses.” It was indeed a 
terrible sight in the gloomy gulch at the foot 
of the cliff. Denis was not the first driver who 
had lost a team off those shelving rocks. 

Down below could dimly be seen a jumble of 
wheels, broken barrels, boxes, splintered wagon 
beds, and dead animals. 

The place was known for years as “The 
Slipping Rocks.” 

By waiting until the sun had melted the ice, 
the remaining wagons, now reduced to two, 
got by safely. 


CHAPTER XX 



HE ride down the western side of that 


A mountain was never forgotten by any of 
the caravaners. They were above the timber 
line and nothing was to be seen but rocks and 
snow banks. At one time a sudden mist sur¬ 
rounded them. They were in the midst of a 
dark electric cloud. Danny and Bonaparte 
were riding together. 

“Look, Danny! All de folks an’ de horses 
an’ wagons is gone. Our day is come. All yo’ 
see is de tires of de wheels made out of blue 
fire, buckles on harness, bolts on er wagon 
beds, shoes on er horses, shining out in dark¬ 
ness. Dis is de las’ day, an’ people an’ horses 
an’ wagons all melted an’ gone.” 

“Don’t be alarmed,” rang out Amias’s voice. 
“It isn’t dangerous at this altitude. All the 
metal is charged with electricity. We’ll be 
out of the cloud in a minute or two.” 

“Can’t get out of it a minute too soon for 
me!” Barney’s big voice sang out. 

“Same here,” came from several voices. 

As quickly as it came the mist rolled away, 
but neither Danny nor any of that company 
ever forgot those invisible horses harnessed 


222 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


with fire, and those awful wagon tires of blue 
flame rolling behind them down the mountain¬ 
side. 

Aunt Mary drove her own team down that 
winding road and she said many times after¬ 
ward she would wake in the night shivering 
with the fear she hadn’t time to feel while 
plunging down steep grades and making sharp 
turns where her leaders had to leap over great 
rocks on the side of the road and her wheel 
horses would shy away from the brink. 

Down at the foot of the mountain lay Cali¬ 
fornia Gulch. A few scattered huts, some of 
them abandoned and with the roofs of mud 
and boughs fallen in, was about all that Danny 
could see. Farther down, they came to three 
or four houses in a row; and that was the 
town. 

Somewhere in the neighborhood was Bar¬ 
ney’s “Colorado property,” but the first place 
the little caravan made for was the general 
store. No one had tasted coffee for a week. 
Their flour had given out long before that. A 
little cornmeal and dried beans were all they 
had except for the game Bonaparte and Danny 
were able to bring in; but the country at the 
last was too rough for very much hunting. 

While Aunt Mary and the others were busy 
buying their needed provisions at prices which 
seemed as high as the mountains, Captain 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


223 


Haynes took Danny with him and looked about 
for a place to locate. He first thought of an 
abandoned shack, but after looking in the door 
of one or two of them he made up his mind 
to build a house of their own. 

Aunt Mary had been talking with the young 
woman who kept the store. Her husband had 
gone to Denver for groceries and hardware. 

'‘Why don't you start a hotel?" the young 
woman asked. “All the men round here are 
sick of cooking their own food, and you’d have 
six men in your own party to start in with. 
You could teach that darky to cook, and the 
boy could run errands." 

“I’ve thought of it, coming across, many 
times, but supplies are so high up here I’m 
afraid it wouldn’t pay.’’ Aunt Mary was set¬ 
tling her grocery bill at that moment. 

Captain Haynes and Danny came into the 
store as the young woman was saying: “You 
needn’t worry about the cost of things up here. 
All you’ve got to do is set your own prices to 
suit. The men that haven’t any dust ’ll stay 
away, and those that have ’ll pay anything 
you ask.’’ 

“Might as well build a hotel as a house, Mrs. 
Elmore. We will all help put it up,’’ and in 
five minutes the captain had promises from all 
the caravaners to go at the building as soon as 
a site was chosen. Before they went into camp 


22 4 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


that night it was determined to build across 
the way from the store and thus make two 
sides to the street. 

The next day a portable sawmill arrived in 
the Gulch. Parts of it had been broken cross¬ 
ing the mountains, but Barney helped the 
owner to repair it, and in return he cut the 
lumber for the hotel before serving any other 
customers. Danny had seen a house built back 
in Ohio, but now he saw it done differently. 
First they laid the main flooring on two-by- 
eight joists. Then they laid “two-by-fours” 
on the floor two feet apart, and “tied” them top 
and bottom with long beams. When this was 
done all hands raised the whole side of the 
house at once and stayed it with braces until 
the other side and ends were raised. 

Then building paper was tacked on with 
short tin-headed nails. There was no sheath¬ 
ing or clapboards on the sides. The roof was 
of tar paper over rough boards. The windows 
had no glass for several weeks, and sawed 
lumber was so expensive that the floors on the 
second floor were formed of slats several inches 
apart so that the guests had to step carefully 
or perhaps catch a heel in the crevices. The 
partitions between the bedrooms were of build¬ 
ing paper and Aunt Mary had placards put up 
warning guests not to lean against the walls. 


i 


DANNY’S PARTNER 225 

But when the hotel was completed a wan¬ 
dering artist painted a big sign for her: 

THE PALATIAL 

Barney made two dining-room tables, and 
benches to go on either side of them. Chairs 
were not to be had for several months. 

Aunt Mary sold her wagon and team for 
a thousand dollars and invested the proceeds 
in provisions. Columbus Jones boarded out the 
price of his old roan horse. 

The summer season was drawing to a close 
up at that high altitude and prospectors were 
coming in from the mountains. “The Palatial” 
was a welcome sight to those who could afford 
such a luxurious home for the winter. Aunt 
Mary had traded a month’s board with an old 
miner for a pair of gold scales, and soon had 
the “dust” to buy enough provisions, before 
snow closed the road, to run her hotel all 
winter. 

Bonaparte was cook, with Aunt Mary’s aid, 
and made a little side money as barber at one 
dollar for cutting hair, fifty cents for shaving. 
Not all the men who drifted in at the Gulch for 
the winter were honest miners or prospectors. 

To every mining camp flocked men who were 
birds of prey—too lazy to work—ready at any 
moment to rob or cheat their neighbors out 


226 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


of their property or their "dust/’ Captain 
Haynes soon found himself called upon as a 
deputy by the sheriff of the district to maintain 
order. His reputation as a dead shot with 
any kind of weapon made him a power in the 
Gulch. Many bad men left for more healthy 
neighborhoods. 

One of the great desires of all the miners was 
for something to read. A newspaper a month 
or six weeks old could be sold over and over 
again. Danny, one day, went to Doctor Syl¬ 
vester. “Doctor, you always let me read your 
books. I was wondering whether you wouldn’t 
let some of the miners that live here read some 
of them, too.” 

“That’s a good thought, Danny. We’ll 
start a library—‘Danny’s Public Library’—and 
you shall be librarian and see that the books 
don’t get lost.” 

Danny’s public library became one of the 
chief attractions of Aunt Mary’s hotel. There 
was to be no charge for the use of the books, 
but one rough miner who had been deep in a 
prose translation of Homer’s Odyssey laid 
down the book when Bonaparte beat the gong 
for supper. 

“The feller that wrote that book was an 
awful liar, but he knew the big outdoors. Here, 
Danny’ 1 —and he produced a little buckskin bag 
—“get a tin cup an’ set it on top of your book- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


227 


shelves. Those books ’ll wear out; you’ll want 
to buy new ones. Here goes for old Homer.” 
And he poured out an ounce of pure gold. 

Danny’s tin cup took in enough that winter 
to buy many books when the roads opened in 
the spring. “Old Homer” had other attentive 
readers. Two ragged-looking miners dropped 
into the hotel one night out of a howling bliz¬ 
zard. They were the last to come in from the 
diggings. 

“By Jove! Harry, if the little cove here 
hasn’t got some real books! Fancy Homer in 
California Gulch.” 

That evening the ragged Harry was as deep 
in “old Homer” as the rough miner had been a 
night or two before. “I vow, Berkeley, this 
translation might have been a bit more care¬ 
ful ; we never read it this way at Oxford!” But 
nevertheless these two English gentlemen who 
were digging in the Gulch were very thankful 
for Danny’s library, even if they found errors 
in the translation of Homer. 

“Doctor Sylvester brought all these books 
from Philadelphia,” Danny told them. “Three 
of our wagons went over the cliffs an’ we were 
lucky to get across with our books. I can read 
some of them. 

“No, we didn’t have much trouble with 
Indians, but I was stolen by horse rustlers. 
Mrs. Elmore killed one of them and Bonaparte, 


228 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


the cook here, and I buried him. The Indians 
killed Red Morgan, and a wicked old woman 
they called Lady Emeline, and Long Hooker, 
and poor Pinkey that saved me lots of beatings. 
He was wicked, too, but I liked him, and Bona¬ 
parte and I got away.” 

The two gentlemen grew very fond of Danny 
and told him many things from books which 
he never saw until long afterward. 

One night a fierce wind rocked the hotel so 
severely that the next morning it leaned over 
“like the tower of Pisa,” Berkeley said. Bar¬ 
ney went out and secured a coil of telegraph 
wire and by dint of a block and tackle the house 
was straightened up and wired fast to some of 
the great pine stumps which surrounded it. 

Old Amias Fairway spent a good deal of his 
time at “The Palatial.” He seemed to have 
taken a great fancy to Barney and to that 
simple old soldier and sailor he appeared a very 
wonderful man. Amias knew every fortune 
that had been made in gold mines and how it 
had been done. “Some of them were stumbled 
onto but not many. System is the thing—com¬ 
binations. No use trying to go it alone. Cap¬ 
ital put in big combinations wins to-day.” 
Barney cared as little for money as any man in 
California Gulch, for himself, but for Danny 
he wanted all he could lay his hands on—“to 
give him an education like the captain or the 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


229 


doctor, that's my aim in life, Mr. Fairway." 

One day in the spring, when the roads were 
opening, two men dropped in from a few miles 
down the Gulch. They were friends of old 
Amias and both had an air of prosperity about 
them—at least so it appeared to Barney. Both 
had visited the hotel before, but this time they 
announced that they were organizing a com¬ 
pany to open up a great mine “which was to 
put California Gulch on the map for good." 
As soon as the roads were clear they were 
going down to Denver to meet capitalists from 
Boston. They wanted Amias to go with them. 
“All those people know Amias Fairway! He's 
an authority on mines and his word is like a 
gold bond. Many a dollar he has turned down 
because he wouldn't recommend a mine he 
didn't believe in. You are lucky, Mr. Barney, 
to get advice for nothing that would cost a 
capitalist real money." 

Day after day they talked money—capital— 
expert advice, to poor Barney and pledged him 
to secrecy, as they dare not let their rich find 
be known. At last the day came when the 
two were ready to depart. They were going 
out by way of the Western Pass through Idaho 
Springs, and had with great difficulty, so they 
said, persuaded old Amias to accompany them. 

Barney was invited down to a lawyer friend's 
a mile or two from the hotel and stock to the 


230 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


extent of $40,000 in the new mine was sold to 
him for the insignificant sum of $9,300. They 
were willing to take his personal check for that 
amount in the Ohio bank, because they were 
convinced of his honesty. 

“Why, you can see Mr. Barney is as square 
a man as Amias Fairway.” And Barney gladly 
wrote his name at the bottom of a check for 
pretty nearly every penny he had in the world 
in exchange for forty shares in the Gray Goose 
and Golden Egg Mining Co., Limited. That 
day Mr. Amias Fairway bade good-by to all 
his dear friends, gave Danny his blessing, and 
with the two organizers of the great company 
departed for Denver. 

In three months they would return with 
machinery of the latest type and “put Cali¬ 
fornia Gulch on the map.” 

Patiently Barney waited for their return; 
but three months—four months—five months 
passed and not a word was heard from the 
three. Barney believed they had gone over 
some great cliff or were caught in a snow slide 
until a long-belated letter from the bank in 
Ohio inclosed a statement showing that his 
balance was some two hundred dollars. 

Not until then did it dawn on Barney that 
Amias Fairway was a smooth old sharper, and 
to lose faith in that benevolent patriarch hurt 
him almost as much as the loss of his money— 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


231 


except when he thought of Danny. How was 
he to educate him now? But Barney was not 
one to sit down and bemoan his fate. 

He would look up that deed to his property. 
Yes, it was certainly located in California 
Gulch. Barney and Columbus started out one 
day to find it. They inquired of an old man 
who usually sat about the store and who was 
said to have discovered the Gulch. 

“Yaas, I mind the tract belonging to Tim 
Barney years ago. He war alius lawin’ about 
it. ’Twan’t worth lawin’ about, Taws he didn’t 
hev no mineral rights. You’re his nephy? 
Ef ye take my advice ye’ll look for mineral, not 
land, in this country. Ain’t a man as knows 
Californy Gulch would take yer lan’ for a 
gift.” 

There seemed to be nothing then left for 
Barney but to put the few dollars he had left 
in a prospecting outfit and try his fortunes in 
the mountains. 

A few days later he made out a check for his 
last two hundred dollars in the Ohio bank and 
cashed it in gold dust at Aunt Mary’s. Then 
he took old Kokomo and packed provisions on 
his back for a prospecting trip to the moun¬ 
tains. It was a rough trip for a man with a 
wooden leg, but Barney was strong and well 
and his courage never failed him. 

“If you goin’, Marse Barney, so is I. Can’t 


232 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


see you climbin’ dose mountains alone.” Bona¬ 
parte was standing with his white cap on at 
the kitchen door. 

“And I’m going, too, me an’ Dicko; you took 
me out of the poorhouse when I had no friend 
but Nebuchadnezzar, an’ he an’ I are going 
along to take care of you.” 

“I can’t bear to see Danny go and I hate to 
lose a good cook, but Barney, it’s due you. I’ll 
grubstake ’em both. Danny owes everything 
in the world to you and I’m glad he wants to 
go. I’ll run the hotel; perhaps Columbus 
Jones ’ll help look after the library and there’s 
cooks comin and goin’ every day. If you make 
a strike call it the Barney Blue Jeans.” 

Aunt Mary had a load ready for Dicko to 
carry within an hour, and Dicko did his best 
to get rid of it. To be a pack horse was a great 
come-down for the little pony. 

Nebuchadnezzar, who would never have left 
the place where he had a hundred bones buried 
for anyone but Danny, trotted along after 
Dicko and Kokomo when the little party 
started down the Gulch. 

Aunt Mary smiled as she bade Danny good- 
by, but he was no sooner out of sight than she 
turned back into the hotel and wiped her eyes 
on the back of her big white apron. 

Business at the store opposite the hotel had 
been very brisk for a day or two while Barney 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


233 


and his little partner, Danny, were outfitting" 
for their prospecting enterprise. 

“Where you goin', kid?” was a question 
Danny wasn’t able to answer, for Barney alone 
knew, and even he had only a hazy idea of the 
wild mountainous region they were about to 
explore. 

The questioner was a tall, sorrowful-looking 
gambler who followed the traditions of his 
trade by wearing a white shirt and clothing of 
black broadcloth. He usually hung about the 
store to see who had money or “dust” to spend. 
Every mining camp has its little band of lily¬ 
fingered gentlemen who never work with their 
hands but prey on all their neighbors. 

Barney had been seen down at the store con¬ 
sulting a map which hung over the safe. He 
must have a tip of some sort. It might pay to 
see where he and Danny were going. Half an 
hour after their departure for the mountains, 
the gambler, who was known in the Gulch as 
Hylow Jim, mounted on a good horse, took 
up their trail and followed after them. That 
evening, at sundown, Hylow swung off his 
horse at the little store. Very carefully he 
examined the map over the safe and, on a piece 
of paper, marked down the location of a pass 
which led westward from the Gulch. 


CHAPTER XXI 


T^ICKO shook his wicked little head; he 
didn't like his company and he didn't like 
the unaccustomed load on his back. Kokomo 
wasn’t much to look at, but the little burro 
was climbing over the mountains with a load 
which contained everything that Uncle Barney 
had in the world; and if Dicko did but know it, 
he was going to have a hard time keeping up 
with his humble comrade. 

“Danny boy, we're as poor almost as the day 
we sat on that old hollow log in the woods back 
of the poorhouse. Bonaparte knew more than 
any of us. When we all went crazy about 
digging for gold on the flat, with our provisions 
'most gone, he showed more sense than all of 
us put together. Of course, Uncle Barney was 
the biggest fool of all as it turns out, but we're 
over it now and we've got one more chance 
to make good." 

They had been four days on the way since 
they left their friends in California Gulch and 
before them rose a great mountain range which 
must be crossed if possible before night over¬ 
took them. 

“Is yo’ mos' ready to start, Marse Barney? 

234 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


235 

We’s a kin’ o’ small calavan, you an’ Danny 
an’ Nebuchadnezzar an’ me! Go on, you, 
Kokomo, you an’ yo’ frien’ Dicko, an’ don’t 
yo’ look so mo’nful. Disa time we started out 
in our right min’s.” 

“If only Uncle Barney’s leg don’t give out, 
Bonaparte, I like this a lot better than going 
with a wagon. We don’t have to stick to 
roads.” 

In a little while they were far up a canon 
which became narrower and steeper as it ran 
back into the mountains. Every once in a 
while they would come to a place where the 
canon seemed to end in a stone wall, but al¬ 
ways they found some steep path at one side, 
and before night they reached the top of the 
pass. 

Here and in the valley below they expected 
to spend the summer, prospecting. Not a soul 
from the Gulch had entered this region. Some 
one had declared there was no ore in that 
locality and, mining among boomers being a 
craze and not a science, everyone believed him. 
Barney had bravely stumped his way all day 
long up the mountain, and now Bonaparte and 
Danny settled him down with his pipe at the 
foot of a tree while they lifted the packs off 
Dicko and Kokomo and made camp. The little 
burro carried a square tent for wet weather 
and a tent fly, besides pots and pans and bags 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


236 

of provisions. Dicko’s load included picks and 
shovels, tools, and other odds and ends. A 
little stream came down from the higher 
ground at one side of the pass and Danny took 
a pail over to fetch water for Bonaparte. 

While dinner was cooking Danny carried his 
basin and soap over to the brook to wash. He 
had seen enough of drifting on the gravelly 
bed of the stream where Barney built his first 
rocker to know the kind of ground where ore 
was likely to be found. When he had scrubbed 
his hands and face until they shone, the black 
sand in a little pool tempted him to try panning 
it. He filled his basin with sand and water, 
whirled and whirled it around until only the 
very blackest was left; but not a particle of 
color showed. Three times he panned a basin¬ 
ful. No little yellow specks gleamed in the 
black sand, but in the last pan lay one great 
glowing pebble as large as the end of his 
thumb! It could not be— Yes, it was! 

"Uncle Barney! Bonaparte! Come quick!” 

Barney was up on his one good leg and his 
wooden one in half a minute. Bonaparte has¬ 
tily pulled his flapjacks off the fire and both 
reached the little stream as Danny with basin 
in one hand and nugget in the other danced 
about, with Nebuchadnezzar barking and keep¬ 
ing time with his little stump of a tail. 

"It's the real thing, Danny. We must be 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


237 


close up to the lode! Might as well put up the 
tent, Bonaparte, and make regular camp. Here 
we stay till we strike the good old mother of 
this child.” 

That night they ate cold flapjacks and burnt 
bacon, but never had any of them enjoyed a 
meal more. 

Next morning Barney was up long before 
the sun, but early as it was when he arose 
Bonaparte was already making the coffee. 
Danny had his wash-basin in hand on the way 
to the brook. In half an hour all three were 
panning wherever a little sand had lodged 
along the stream; but, while some gold ap¬ 
peared from time to time, no more nuggets 
were found. 

“We are wasting our time, boys. We must 
forget the surface and go after the vein. That 
old villain who got my money knew all about 
mining. Perhaps if I remember some of the 
things I heard him say I may get my money 
back, with interest/’ 

For many days and weeks Barney and Bona¬ 
parte and Danny used pick and shovel in places 
which seemed likely to reveal the source of the 
surface gold. Once or twice they discovered 
nuggets large enough to keep them digging. 
In the evenings Danny and Bonaparte used to 
go out on a ledge that overlooked the valley 


238 DANNY’S PARTNER 

and watch the sun sink behind the great range 
beyond. 

“Jes’ looks ’zackly like Kingdom Come, 
Danny. I hear ’em sing, when I war little 
pickaninny ’bout dat. White folks mos’ly look 
on dem big mountains pilin’ up among ’em 
clouds an’ don’ seem as if dey care nuthin’ 
’bout ’em, but dis black chil’ hears de chariots 
rollin’ in de thunder an’ sees de Kingdom rising 
up in de sky when ol’ sun goes down behind 
’em snow peaks an’ de stars come creepin’ out.” 

Then the cool wind would blow up from the 
valley as the sun disappeared; Danny and 
Bonaparte would go very quietly back to the 
camp fire, where Barney sat at the foot of a 
great pine; and all three would watch 'the 
sparks float away on their mysterious journeys 
toward the land of dreams. 

Supplies were getting low and Bonaparte 
took a few days ofif with his rifle to hunt, but 
with poor success. Their bacon was all gone, 
and one morning Danny awoke, thinking he 
heard something moving near the camp. Lift¬ 
ing up the flap of the tent cautiously, he saw 
a great antlered buck outlined against the sky. 

With his carbine in hand he slipped out 
of the tent. The slight noise he made caused 
the buck to lift his head, and at that moment 
Danny fired. With a wild plunge in the air 
the animal turned and dashed away toward 


DANNY'S PARTNER 


239 


the brook, but after two or three strong leaps 
it fell to its knees and rolled over, stone 
dead. 

“Pretty good for a small boy just out of 
bed!" Uncle Barney was rubbing his eyes and 
had stumped out to see what had happened. 
“I guess maybe if I'd been wide awake Fd have 
been too scared to shoot, but now we've got 
meat for a good while longer." 

Bonaparte spent the morning cutting up 
Danny's buck and hanging out strips of the 
fresh meat to dry for future use. Meanwhile 
Danny and Barney shouldered their picks and 
shovels and searched once more for the vein 
they felt was sure to be near. 

They had climbed up a rocky gorge, and on 
reaching the top found that only a knifelike 
ledge of rock separated it from a little canon 
to the north. Pick in hand, Barney leaned 
over to look below, when he lost his balance 
and rolled down the steep side of the canon. 
Clutching at bushes which grew out from the 
sides, he somewhat broke his fall, and landed 
at the bottom pretty badly shaken up. 

No bones were broken, but his wooden leg 
lay in two pieces. Danny, who carried his 
lariat wound round his waist on these expedi¬ 
tions, secured one end of it around a tree and 
lowered himself down to aid his old friend, 
who lay groaning and helpless below. 


240 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


“You’ll have to go back to camp and get 
some rawhide to tie up this splintered peg of 
mine, Danny. I’m all right, ’side from that 
and a few bruises, but it’s a pity. We’ll be 
losing time and the snows ’ll be due here in a 
month more. This is our last chance, Danny. 
Not a single dollar have we for another outfit. 
We’ve got to find where that gold comes from 
right now or we are done.” 

“What’s this rock you knocked down, Uncle 
Barney, when you fell? Kind of curious-look¬ 
ing rock. Lookee at it!” Danny held out a 
piece of it to Barney. 

“Great Juniper! Danny! Climb up and see 
where it comes from.” 

Barney examined the strange rock with eyes 
bulging, while Danny with the aid of his lariat 
was climbing up until within a few feet of the 
top. 

“It’s come from here, Uncle Barney; it’s a 
big streak that wide, and runs down sideways 
back of where you are. It’s so wide.” And 
Danny spread out his hands on either side of 
his shoulders. “I’m standing on the edge of 
it!” 

“Danny, you’ve found it! It would have 
been worth breaking my good leg for, boy! 
Do you know what we’ve done? Hello! what’s 
that?” But it was only Nebuchadnezzar look¬ 
ing down at them, and now came his joyful 
bark. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


241 


“He’s just as glad as we are, Uncle Barney. 
Now I’ll climb out and get Bonaparte and 
we’ll help you up and mend your wooden leg. 
An’ hooray for the Barney Blue Jeans Mine!” 

While Danny clambered over the rocks and 
down to the camp, Barney got hold of his pick 
and dragged himself back to where the great 
“outcrop” of quartz reached the bottom of the 
little canon. He cleared away loose earth and 
rubbish until he had a clear view of the won¬ 
derful formation. With a few powerful blows 
he broke away enough pieces to carry to camp 
for closer study. He knew how uncertain min¬ 
ing prospects always were, but he had enough 
of the miner’s superstition to believe that a 
vein discovered in such a strange manner must 
bring good fortune. 

Bonaparte was not long in reaching the 
canon when Danny told him what had hap¬ 
pened. They soon had the splintered leg re¬ 
paired so that it was almost as good as new, 
and Barney, in the joy of their great discovery, 
forgot all his aches and pains. 

Bonaparte had brought a sledge and cold 
chisel. They all went to work with a will and 
soon had a gunny sack full of quartz specimens 
from different parts of the vein. Danny found 
a way down the canon that brought them out 
to their camp through a narrow slit in the 
rocks where a huge square bowlder had choked 
up the way. 


242 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


This most effectually concealed the moutK 
of the canon and, as Danny said, “you might 
think it was only a rabbit hole.” 

All afternoon they spent breaking up the 
quartz, and when evening came Barney said: 
“I’m satisfied we’ve struck the real thing at 
last. We must mark our location exactly and 
take no chance of somebody else jumping our 
claim, but we don’t want to leave any more 
signs about here of a camp than we can help. 
We will leave here to-morrow morning and 
take our specimens to the assayer in California 
Gulch. If it’s all right we’ll bring Captain 
Haynes and the doctor and Mrs. Elmore and 
Columbus if theydl come. There’s plenty for 
all—maybe Columbus’s company may pan out 
yet!” 

Only now, when they were about to leave 
the camp, did Danny see all the beauty of the 
great range which rose in snow-clad minarets 
to the west. This night he watched the sun 
go down and the snow peaks turn to rose, then 
lavender, then violet, deeper and deeper as 
the shadows fell, until all was wrapped in dark¬ 
est indigo. Here and there a star seemed to 
drop into its appointed place until the heavens 
were full. A little rustling of the wind in the 
pines and all the world was still. 

The journey back to the Gulch was a rapid 
one. Their hopes were high for the most part. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


243 


but Barney sometimes had sleepless nights. 
He was no expert and perhaps his prospect 
was of no value at all, but for the most part 
they all believed in the mine. It came to them 
like a miracle. It must be true. 

The last few miles had finally been reached. 
They halted for an hour to wash up and change 
their dusty and travel-worn clothes for clean 
ones. These had been carefully packed on 
Kokomo’s back in a canvas bag. All their pro¬ 
visions were now eaten up and Kokomo could 
easily carry what little they possessed, includ¬ 
ing the bag of quartz. So Danny, with a bright 
bandana round his neck, once more found him¬ 
self on Dicko’s back. The little horse danced 
about, pretending to try to throw him off and 
Nebuchadnezzar tore at the shaggy fetlocks of 
his rival in the affections of his little master. 

When they came in sight of Aunt Mary’s 
hotel the first person they saw was Columbus 
Jones. He was seated on a large split-bottom 
chair which was tilted up against the wall be¬ 
side the hotel entrance. Mr. Jones was asleep. 
As Dicko danced up toward him a great strong 
woman with steady eyes came to the open 
door and stood looking out. Columbus was 
awakened by a scream that made him think 
the hotel was on fire. The great strong woman 
had lifted Danny off Dicko’s back as though 
he had been a baby. Nebuchadnezzar was 


244 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


jumping 1 about her and barking as he never had 
before. Barney and Bonaparte, followed by 
the faithful Kokomo, arrived a moment later 
and were received by Columbus with open 
arms. 

When Aunt Mary had at last set Danny 
down and Barney had stepped forward to greet 
her, Columbus put his thumb under his left 
suspender (he now had a pair) and observed, 
“Mr. Barney, allow me to introduce you to 
Mrs. Columbus Jones.” Barney staggered just 
a little, but this may have been on account 
of his wooden leg. 

“Well, I surely do congratulate you, C’lum- 
bus, an’ I hope I see you well, Mrs. Jones,” 
he said. 

“You are still my aunt Mary. You can’t 
go and be somebody else, can you?” Danny 
couldn’t quite understand. 

“No, Danny, I’m your aunt Mary for al¬ 
ways.” 

“And I’m your proud Uncle Columbus.” Mr. 
Jones was not going to be left out if he could 
help it. 

A little later in the day, after Barney had 
left his precious bag at the assayers, he and 
Aunt Mary had a quiet talk. “You see it was 
this way, Mr. Barney: Columbus owed me a 
lot of board and he was out of employment and 
no one to care for him; and he’s always an 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


245 


agreeable man and never quarrelsome nor 
given to drink, and then, Mr. Barney, he looks 
like a hotel man, so I thought the only way 
out was for us to get married. He thought 
so, too; so we’re both suited. Money’s rolling 
in, expenses are high, but folks ’ll pay any¬ 
thing you have the conscience to ask ’em up 
here.” 

Danny came in to ask if Aunt Mary had 
any work for Bonaparte about the hotel. “Tell 
him, to be sure. He can live here as long as the 
hotel runs. My cooks don’t last long; they all 
get married. I’d like to get a man cook; he’d 
stick.” 

A week later Captain Haynes, Doctor Syl¬ 
vester, Columbus, and Aunt Mary met Barney 
in the hotel. The assay had been made and 
the ore was pronounced heavy in values. If the 
vein was as thick as stated a great new mine 
had undoubtedly been discovered. 

Danny was sent out to the kitchen to bring 
in Bonaparte. Barney said he must be there 
to hear the good news. When he was told of 
the assay his only comment was, “Sho’ly de 
good Lord takes car’ of his own.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


' | v HE return of Barney and his little “cala- 
van/’ as Bonaparte called it, set the sor¬ 
rowful-faced gambler and his friends in the 
back room of the store to speculating on the 
probability of their having made a strike. 
These gentlemen were experts. They knew 
Barney had left a bag of quartz at the assayer’s 
and they watched for the day when he should 
receive his report. All that day they hung 
about the “Palatial,” patronized Danny's li¬ 
brary, and took stock of the broad grin that 
spread across the black face of Bonaparte. 
Hylow Jim had sat in at enough poker games 
to be able to read in a man’s face pretty well 
what he held in his hand, and he was convinced 
that Barney had made a big strike. 

Business at the little store had another boom 
that night—another expedition was being out¬ 
fitted. Before midnight Hylow Jim was at 
the “Palatial,” bidding good-by to everyone. 
He was sick of the Gulch. He was going back 
to Denver, where they played for real money, 
he and Peters and Bragg. They would start 
at sunup. But an hour later the three, well 
mounted and armed, with a couple of pack 

246 


DANNY’S PARTNER 247 

mules, were on their way toward the pass to 
the west. 

Hylow Jim knew the road for the first six 
hours of the journey, and believed it would 
not be difficult, when daylight came, to follow 
the trail left by Barney’s little party, for the 
mountains can only be crossed in a few places, 
and old night camps would be easy to locate. 
He had learned from Danny by adroit ques¬ 
tioning that he had been about a week on the 
return journey. 

“We can make this in four days, if we hustle. 
This Barney will most likely take Captain 
Haynes and the darky and the kid back to the 
claim. Make no mistake, if we jump this claim 
we’ve got to be all set when they get there.” 

Four days later Peters, who; was an old 
mountaineer, stood out on the rim of the moun¬ 
tain where Danny and Bonaparte used to 
watch the sunset. “This is where they had 
their permanent camp. They’ve tried to cover 
up their tracks, but look up at that tree—the 
leaves on this side are all withered over their 
camp-fire. Now we’ve got to hustle and find 
the ‘lode.’ ” 

If Danny and his old partner and Bonaparte 
had been frontiersmen this might have baffled 
Hylow and his partners for days, but Peters 
wasn’t long in finding a piece of quartz, freshly 
broken, halfway from the camp to the little 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


248 

canon. This gave him his direction and, fol¬ 
lowed by Hylow and Bragg like hounds on the 
scent, they soon arrived at the great fallen 
bowlder which almost blocked the way into 
the canon. Squeezing through the small open¬ 
ing at one side, they gave a wild yell as a little 
pile of white and broken quartz left by Barney 
gleamed on the dark floor of the canon. 

“We’ve got the outcrop!” cried Bragg. 
“Now, all we’ve got to do is make our camp 
right here and sit tight. It’s ours by nine 
points of the law and if Mr. Barney wants a 
job breakin’ rock we’ll give him two dollars 
a day an’ grub.” 

All that day he and Peters swung their axes, 
cutting down pine trees to make a palisade 
across the canon just above the great outcrop¬ 
ping vein, the massive bowlder protecting then; 
below. 

When all was snug, Peters took the horses 
and pack mules through the woods a mile or 
two farther on, where he proposed to keep 
them out of sight. To lose their horses would 
put them at the mercy of Barney’s party, and 
Peters undertook their care, while Hylow Jim 
and Bragg held the claim. 

Five days after Barney received his report 
from the assayer, Captain Haynes, Columbus, 
and Barney, accompanied by Danny and Bona- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


249 


parte, quietly dropped out of the little town 
at midnight, confident that before their ab¬ 
sence was noted they would have put many 
miles between themselves and anyone who 
might try to follow them. Doctor Sylvester 
had been asked to join the party but there was 
a great deal of sickness in “The Gulch" and 
the good doctor, as he said, was “a soldier in 
his profession/' His place was with the sick. 

About noon on the first day out Bonaparte 
stopped to water his horse at a brook which 
crossed their trail. “Cap'n Haynes, will yo' 
look here, sah? Somebody's been watering 
mules here! See em li Y hoof marks in de mud?" 

“And horses farther up," said the captain 
after he had examined the tracks. “Bonaparte, 
do you think you can tell how many horses?" 

“Not more dan three, sah," was Bonaparte's 
answer, after he had followed the tracks to 
hard ground. 

The captain frowned and said, slowly, “Hy- 
low Jim, Bragg, and Peters! It's a long way 
to Denver by this route. Barney, those three 
rascals are out to jump your claim and you 
know possession, plus two or three rifles, is 
a pretty good title to a mine in this country." 

“I'm too old a soldier to hanker after a muss 
for my part of the claim, but I’m willing to 
put up the fight of my life for Danny's share," 
growled old Barney as he stumped about ex- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


250 

amining the hoofprints of the claim jutnpers , 
horses. 

Columbus Jones had one thumb under his 
suspenders and was hitching up the blue patch 
in his butternut trousers. Usually this was a 
sign that he was about to give out some orig¬ 
inal idea, but this time he was reflecting on the 
awful chances of rifle fire. It was so much 
pleasanter to have been a hero in the past, 
rather than to have to be one in the future. 

Not much time was wasted by the little 
party after the discovery at the spring. 

Perhaps the claim jumpers might lose days 
in searching for the mine; the thing to do was 
to press forward and on the fourth day out 
the site of their old camp was reached. No 
one was in sight. Perhaps the enemy had gone 
by the claim. 

However, Captain Haynes was too good a 
general to risk being ambushed. Very care¬ 
fully, with Bonaparte for a guide, he made a 
wide detour through the woods, and finally 
arrived at the point overlooking the canon 
where Barney had his fall. 

The sound of a heavy hammer on hard rock 
came up from below, and a voice, “Come on, 
let's open her up some more/' and the cool, 
even voice of the gambler, “Not for me, Bragg, 
can't afford to spoil my hands. No split nails 
when you're dealing cards in a real game.” 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


251 

After noting that a tent was erected in the 
middle of the canon, Captain Haynes and Bon¬ 
aparte slipped away as quietly as they had 
come. The claim was jumped and the jumpers 
were in possession. How to oust them with¬ 
out bloodshed was a problem which the cap¬ 
tain felt would require considerable thought. 

That night they made camp half a mile from 
the claim. Danny and Bonaparte brought the 
biggest logs they could carry and all hands 
gathered about a roaring camp fire. Danny 
sat close to old Barney at the foot of a great 
pine and for a while no one spoke. Every one 
was trying to think of some way to get the 
gambler and Bragg out of the canon. “That 
man Peters must be off somewhere with the 
horses. S’posin’ I git after ’em an’ stampede 
’em. Dem rustlers would have to git started 
home befo’ de snows come. It’s sho’ly a long 
walk to California Gulch.” 

That was Bonaparte’s plan. 

Barney was in favor of going right in and 
digging them out, “like the couple of rats they 
are. 

Columbus Jones thought perhaps they had 
better offer Hylow Jim, Bragg & Co. a little 
c’latteral stock in the company—say quarter of 
a million or so. “Of course at any time we 
could assess ’em on it so’s they’d be glad to 
get out.” Columbus always thought in mil- 


252 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


lions. Perhaps his plan might have worked if 
it had been tried, but Captain Haynes hardly 
appeared to have heard it. 

“What is your idea, Danny?” he asked, as 
he saw the little partner looking very thought¬ 
fully into the fire. 

Danny’s cheeks reddened. He was such a 
little fellow to be consulted. 

“Captain Haynes, you know my lariat that 
I let myself down into the canon with when 
Barney fell in? Why couldn’t some of our 
party holler and yell, down below the big 
bowlder, and get Hylow Jim and Mr. Bragg 
running there to see what’s the matter, and 
you and I slip down on the lariat and capture 
their camp?” 

“Danny, you’ve hit it!” exclaimed the cap¬ 
tain. “You’re the best general of us all; but 
we mustn’t let the general take too big a risk. 
Lend me your lariat, and the only change I will 
make in your plan is to take Bonaparte with 
me. You can help raise the disturbance in front 
of the big bowlder. Late to-morrow night we 
will make the raid and meanwhile we must 
keep as quiet as possible.” 

All the next day, Danny and Bonaparte 
herded the horses and Kokomo as far away as 
possible from the claim in the canon. Kokomo 
was liable at any time to lift up his voice and 
wake the echoes for a mile around. 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


253 


Captain Haynes and Barney worked out the 
details of the proposed night’s work. “We can 
do the whole thing without bloodshed, Bar¬ 
ney, and I’m sure, as an old soldier, you had 
enough of that to last you. I’m sure I had. 
If Bonaparte and I can drop down there with¬ 
out making any noise, we’ll have those two 
fellows with their hands tied before they know 
what has happened to them.” 

As night came on clouds gathered over the 
mountains. By ten o’clock the stars were hid¬ 
den, and if Bonaparte hadn’t known the way, 
to the ridge along the rim of the canon, Cap¬ 
tain Haynes never could have found the spot 
where Barney had made his lucky tumble into 
a gold mine. But long before midnight the 
captain and the colored boy had secured the 
end of the lariat to the same stout pine tree 
which had served as an anchor for Danny a 
month before. Each had a piece of stout rope 
hung through his belt and it is hardly necessary 
to say neither of them had left his revolver 
back at the camp. Down below they could 
hear the low mumble of two voices with an 
occasional yawn. A few words could be heard 
spasmodically. “I wish old Peg-leg would 
show up and be done with—” “If Cap’ Haynes 
is with him it ’ll be—” “Ever see him shoot?” 

Just at this moment the stillness was broken 
by a rifle shot. It echoed among the rocky 


254 DANNY’S PARTNER 

crags and seemed to come from down at the 
mouth of the canon. Then a confused murmur 
of what seemed to be many voices. From be¬ 
low a voice floated up to the Captain and Bona¬ 
parte. 

“Guess you’ve got your wish, Mr. Bragg— 
old Peg-leg and his crowd are here. We’ll stop 
them at the big bowlder, though; it’s one man 
at a time through that passage.” 

Very distinctly could be heard the click of 
two hammers as the pair cocked their revolvers 
and hurried down the canon. 

A loud clattering of loose stones rolling 
down the mountain side could be heard below 
the great bowlder. Hylow Jim and Bragg, 
crouching behind it, awaited an attack, while 
quietly and slowly two dark forms slipped 
down into the canon and were creeping nearer 
and nearer from the rear. Hylow had just 
started to whisper in Bragg’s ear when his 
whisper changed to a startled yell. 

A powerful blow had knocked the gun from 
his hand and at the same time a rope had coiled 
around him and tightened, pinioning his arms 
at his sides. At the same moment Bragg felt 
the steely fingers of Captain Haynes tighten on 
his wrist and his gun being wrested from his 
hand. 

A rope deftly twisted round his elbows had 
him helpless and before he could recover him- 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


255 


self he lay flat on his face on the slippery rocks. 
Barney and Danny had squeezed through the 
passage by the bowlder by this time, and Co¬ 
lumbus was puffing and blowing as he strug¬ 
gled halfway through. The gambler lay quiet 
enough. “I lose,” was all he had to say. Bragg, 
however, put up a hard fight, but the captain 
had him tied too securely. His struggles were 
vain. 

Danny found a lantern in the gamblers’ tent 
and by its light, with the two prisoners, Danny 
and his partner and their friends made their 
way back to camp. 

The next morning Captain Haynes and 
Bonaparte took the gambler, with his hands 
securely tied, and walked over to the valley 
where Peters was herding his horses and 
mules. Peters was a reasonable man, and 
when he saw his partner in the grip of Deputy- 
sheriff Haynes he threw up his hands. 

“What do you want us to do, Captain?” was 
all he said. 

“Get your animals together and pack up 
your stuff. We’ll start to the Gulch at noon.” 

“Suits me,” said Peters. “It was gettin’ 
pretty cold up here in the open. I’m ready to 
git back before the snows hit us.” 

At noon, Captain Haynes and Columbus 
Jones bade good-by to Barney and Danny, for 
the two partners, with the faithful Bonaparte, 


DANNY’S PARTNER 


256 

had determined to build them a log cabin and 
spend the winter guarding their claim. 

When the gambler and his two companions, 
now disarmed and beaten at their own game, 
were ready to start homeward, Hylow Jim 
walked over to Barney and wished him good 
luck with his mine—“you and your little part¬ 
ner/’ If Hylow had no other virtue, at least 
he was a good loser. 

The captain planned to return to the camp 
with a pack train bringing provisions for the 
winter. Danny, on little Dicko, rode out with 
him for a mile or two through the wood. 

“Be sure and bring Nebuchadnezzar when 
you come out. He can ride on one of the packs. 
He likes me too much to stay at the Gulch.” 

One morning two weeks later strange swirl¬ 
ing winds swept through the treetops. The 
sun rose shining but dully through a silver 
mist. Danny was busy driving chips into the 
chinks between the great logs that made the 
walls of their cabin. Bonaparte and Barney 
were putting up the last of the light logs which 
formed the roof. When Captain Haynes ar¬ 
rived they would have tar paper to make it 
complete. At the back of the cabin a little 
“lean-to” would give shelter to Dicko and 
Kokomo. As the day wore on a flurry of snow 
started. 

“Bonaparte, Fiji afraid the captain’s going to 



DANNY’S PARTNER 


257 


get snowed in before he gets over the pass.” 
Barney was worried. The wind was rising and 
before night a howling blizzard was raging 
through the forest. 

Barney had built his cabin up against a great 
towering rock which formed the back of his 
chimney. The snow sifted down through his 
roof of logs, but a big blazing fire made the 
little cabin a very cheerful place. 

“ ’Pears like I hears some one holler!” said 
Bonaparte. He was busy cooking flapjacks. 
At that moment Kokomo set up a tremendous 
“Hee haw.” Danny ran out at the door, Bar¬ 
ney stumping after him. Struggling against 
the blizzard came a line of pack animals, the 
captain at their head. 

Out of a big basket on the forward burro 
sprang a shivering dog. 

“Nebuchadnezzar!” shouted Danny and the 
little animal sprang into his arms and began 
licking his face. 

“Well, Barney,” said the captain, clasping 
the old soldier by the hand, “an hour ago I 
thought I should never again see the 'Barney 
Blue Jeans/ ” 


THE END 


Gift Books 

Illustrations in Color 


THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER 

By Mark Twain 
Grown-ups are delighted to discover this beautiful 
gift edition of The Prince and the Pauper —the story 
which Mark Twain himself numbered as among those 
of his works which he liked best. With f ull-color fron¬ 
tispiece, wrapper, cover insert and eight full-color illustra¬ 
tions by Franklin Booth. 

THE ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

By Mark Twain 
This edition, new in format and illustration, has 
been brought out to supply the demand for a finer 
edition of this famous Mark Twain classic. With full- 
color wrapper, cover insert, frontispiece, and sixteen 
illustrations by Worth Brehm. 

THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER 

By Mark Twain 
This especially attractive edition is befitting the 
most important work of Twain’s later life—this story 
of the supernatural, whimsically strange ; fascinating— 
in short, the book which is Mark Twain. With full- 
color frontispiece, cover insert and eight illustrations in 
full color by N. C. Wyeth. 

HOWARD PYLE’S BOOK OF PIRATES 

By Howard Pyle 

As a gift book for anyone old or young who “likes 
stories about pirates/’ or for the collector of beautiful 
books, the equal of this book cannot be found. Howard 
Pyle was able to express with pen and brush all the 
roistering, daredevil spirit for which the legendary 
pirates stand. Forty-one illustrations, seventeen in color, 
twenty-four in black-and-white, all by Howard Pyle. 

HARPER & BROTHERS 
Franklin Square New York 





HARPER’S 
GAMP LIFE SERIES 


CAMPING ON THE GREAT RIVER 
By Raymond S. Spears 

A farmer's son ventures out into the great world to 
make a man of himself and succeeds. He embarks in 
a shanty-boat and sails down the Ohio and Mississippi, 
where he has all kinds of adventures which will make 
the boy-reader long to imitate him. 

CAMPING ON THE GREAT LAKES 
By Raymond S. Spears 

A story of self-reliance and independence as well 
as adventure. Will Sayne and Miles Breton take 
a voyage of discovery from Ontario and Erie, through 
Huron to the vast stretch of Lake Superior. They be¬ 
come involved innocently in smugglers’ plots. 

CAMPING IN THE WINTER WOODS 
By Elmer Russell Gregor 

The story of two boys who are granted the privilege 
of a winter of hunting and trapping in the Maine 
woods under the tuition of their father s famous guide. 
Old Ben. It is not only a fine story but is filled with 
the information about wild animals and woodcraft that 
boys love. 

CAMPING ON WESTERN TRAILS 
By Elmer Russell Gregor 

The same two boys spend a summer in the Rocky 
Mountains , shoot mountain-lions and wolves, secure 
photographs of mountain-sheep and bears, pan gold in 
canon streams, and are nearly suffocated in a forest fire. 

Illustrated. Post 8 vo 


HARPER & BROTHERS 
NEW YORK Established 1817 LONDON 














































































LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



00020770T10 














































































































































































































































































































































































